reminiscence

Memories are funny. What determines what stays and what goes? Similar memories blur into one another making the truth hard to remember.

The patio of my great-grandmother’s house was on a terrace, looking out over a long expanse of empty green lawn. The patio was a shady place, with a cherry tree growing beside it. Every spring that tree would bloom, turning the house and garden into a pink fairyland. There are many photos to remind us.

There were small sculptures and tiles tucked around the base of the trees in the shrubs and plants surrounding the patio. I think most were hand crafted by my great-grandmother. These also added to the fairyland feel of the place.

The patio in the back yard of my grandparents’ house was a similar place. There was a huge apple tree, with hand laid stones forming the patio around its base. Among the primarily slate stones were ones of broken marble. They were carved deeply with letters too broken to form complete words, but as a child I’d make up stories of collapsed civilizations and lost lands under that tree.

In my mind’s eye, I look at the ground and see the moss and small plants growing between the stones. I’d pick the wood sorrel and chew the sour leaves. Ant hills grew between the paving stones throughout the summer months. I’d watch the ants' busy work as I sat lazy on the ground or on a bench beside them.

Summers at my great-grandmother’s featured endless games of Scrabble on her terrace patio. My grandparents, or my mom and aunt would play with her, at a table under the cherry tree. I was too young to play.

When I was older, I’d spend hours playing 500 Rummy with my grandfather under the apple tree at his house. In the morning, I’d bring out his coffee, black with NutraSweet, and we start.

I don't remember who won those games between my grandfather and me. Instead it's the sound of the stream running beside the patio, the feel of the cards in my hand, the sound of my grandfather's voice. Do my mom and aunt have similar memories of my great-grandmother? Probably.

I wonder if my niece will play Scrabble or endless games of Rummy with me under a tree someday. I hope so.