musings about my father and grandmother

Autumn is my favorite season. There’s something magical about Autumn when the weather is still hot in some areas but cooled down dramatically from the stickiness and humid of Summer. I really can’t complain about weather as I lived in San Francisco for the past…oh…twenty-nine years now. But I do remember being really young way back when and spent hot summers with my father in the southern part of another country where we did not have any refrigeration and ice was brought in from trucks during the summer months. On really, really hot days in the city where if you have wall paper in your house, it would peeled down by itself leaving a sticky-mess, my father would take me to the local pool where everyone he knew seemed to be there. There, we swam (I think I waddled in the pool) and we munched on summer fruits, and then time seemed to just pass us by and we would end up at a midnight showing of Zorro or some other old movie like it at the local theater or park, and then next thing you know, we were back at my grandmother’s house to eat a midnight snack before we all fall asleep on the living room floor. It’s not that we don’t have respective rooms or beds mind you, it was just so hot that no one wants to sleep in their room and so much fun to talk to each other. It was really our version of camping. It’s inevitable that when I think about my dad, I think of my grandmother and vice-versa. To me, they are both very “autumn-y” if there is such a description. I miss my dad and grandmother so much. I also miss my mother, but she and I had a very different type of relationship. I think she’s more Spring time than Autumn. With my father, I was his little girl and we had so much fun together. Even days that weren’t supposed to be fun (e.g. hospital visits) became fun when he was around. With my grandmother, she was the best cook ever. To this day, I have never tasted better crepes like the ones she made for us. I can still remember the bits of crunchy peanuts and sugar oozing out of the crêpe and all of us licking our fingers. I used to think it was because of my dad that people would pop in during all times of the day, now that I am older I know that it was probably because of my grandmother’s cooking. Autumn brings about thoughts of them and while I do miss them all dearly, I have no regrets about all the beautiful memories we made together. None whatsoever. xx

jgportland flower and water