When I was a little girl, my grandmother had a special gold fork and spoon that were always mine to use. I felt super special every time I ate using them.
I spent a lot of time with them, my grandparents, that is. Their house was in our front yard, or ours was in theirs, I was never quite sure which. Theirs was there first and then Daddy bought the acerage surrounding it. That’s where I grew up.
I’d stay with them before and after school. I remember watching TV with them, drinking Tab from the bottles kept on the back porch and napping on the couch to the rhythm of the tick tock of the mantle clock they bought on their wedding day. That clock hasn’t worked in years, but I have it and feel like it still watches over me. It even plays a major — although purely fictional role — in my book.
I’ve been working on revising that book today and read through the passage where the clock first appears. It was very much on my mind as I ate dinner tonight — a can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and a grilled cheese. The first taste of that soup made me miss my gold spoon — and my grandparents.