Through The Eyes of A Child

To my grandmother

Photo by Clément Falize on Unsplash

As far as grandmothers go, I don’t remember a time she wasn’t in my life this Grandmother of mine. Her house was where the four of us walked after school. We would find our mother drinking tea and in earnest conversation; my mother sitting, often in tears and my Grandmother involved in a task; cooking, ironing, knitting. Her hands always seemed to be busy. I never saw her in pants…