Grandma

#Literature

Grand mother.

“Mom, can I sleep at Grandma’s tonight?”

I heard in the car, this morning. When I managed to turn around, to see my child, it made me go back to the past, with just one sentence. She was no longer within my reach.
I travelled far.

When did time go by and make us adults full of boring priorities? We fight every day, for something we’re not even sure we really want. When in fact, grandma’s house, is what everyone needs to be happy.

– Grandma’s house, is where the hands of the clock take a vacation with us and the minutes unhurriedly, go by.
– Grandma’s house is where a simple pasta and homemade bread seem to have different flavours, delicious.
– Grandma’s house is where an innocent afternoon, can last for an eternity of games and fantasies.
– Grandma’s house is where the cupboards hide old clothes and mysterious tools.
– Grandma’s house is where the closed boxes become chests of secret treasures, ready to be unveiled.
– Grandma’s house is where toys rarely come ready, they are invented on the spot.
– Grandma’s house, is where everything is mysteriously possible, magic happens and without worries.
– Grandma’s house is where we find the remains of our parents’ childhood and the beginning of our lives.
– Grandma’s house, on the inside, is the address of our deepest affection, where everything is allowed.

That luxury no longer belongs to me – unfortunately – it will live with me, only in memories. Even so, if I could place an order now… any order of all orders in the world, I would order the same thing…

“Can I sleep at Grandma’s tonight?”

– Anonymous.

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