Granny Olive and Brase
My Grandmother Polly had an enormous apricot tree in her garden. The branches reached far beyond twenty four feet in circumference. It reached so high that the fruit at the top kept the bird’s bellies full all summer. I still remember sitting under that mammoth tree on hot summer days gobbling apricots. It was an amazing sight as you sat watching the leaves flickering in the breeze. In addition, you had to be tiny to maneuver between the branches that anchored the ancient prunus armeniaca. It was a sanctuary for me and my Grandmother’s other thirteen grandchildren.
I have not laid my eyes on that amazing old tree in almost thirty years. I truly doubt it still exists as it was older than Methuselah. The life I also remember, inside the cocoon of branches, has long vanished. My family has been spread apart by death, distance, differences and our evolving lives.
Jose' and I have few leaves remaining on our family trees. Most of the branches are inscribed with the word... died. This is why we are so very grateful to the collective group of friends that act as family. It is through their efforts that Brase gets to experience the joys of Grandparent's Day. Our friends love him unconditionally. I am thankful to all of our friends that act as grandparents and participate in Brase's life.
The words of the ancient great tragedian Euripides speaks volumes, “One loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives.”
