Visiting my grandparents
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My parents separated when I was twelve, and I’ve always been closer with my mother’s side than my father’s. Unfortunately, this means that I haven’t spent that much time with my grandparents on my father’s side—in part because they live several hours’ drive away, and I don’t have my own car. However, it’s clear how much they love me: they always remember my birthday, and always send me a Christmas card for Christmas. I know they’re always thinking about me, and about my sister.
Last year, I asked my boyfriend whether he would be interested in driving us down to visit my grandparents over a long weekend. He had never met them before, so I understood that it was a bit of an undertaking—particularly given that their English is not especially good, and that my grandpa is in poor health after a stroke he had just before my parents separated. Fortunately, he agreed, and we drove down to visit them.
I’ve never seen a smile so big on a face as that I saw on my nonna’s. She was utterly delighted to see us. My grandpa was similarly happy—I swear I saw tears in his eyes. After we’d greeted them, my nonna showed us around the house, and took us out into her garden, which is an amazing array of all sorts of fruits and vegetables. They live pretty much self-sufficiently from their garden, which I think is really impressive. She also showed us the sights of the town, from the wetlands to the famous pear orchard that boasts a variety of different types of pears. I came away realizing how little people need to be able to live in a way that truly makes them happy: for my nonna, happiness comes from having her family, and from her love of nature.