Love is sweetest and fairer still

When 'tis budding fresh and new.

Unexpectedly it fills our hearts

Like the arrival of morning's dew.

With wonder anew and intoxication

Within the rapture of its allure

We are wrapped in love's fulfillment

Sure forevermore our joy will endure.

Thus, each step we make is light-hearted,

Each thought filled with the utmost delight,

As with anticipation we rise and tread

Fully eager, our love to requite.

As much as I enjoyed playing Rummikub, my favorite game to play with my grandparents was Uno. If it was a nice day out, we'd play out in the sunroom. If not, we'd play in the kitchen. Whenever it rained at the community pool, we'd play at a plastic table underneath an awning as a means of passing the time until the storm passed.

Both of them cut, shuffled, and dealt the cards with the finesse of professional card dealers.

Whenever Papa put down the first card or changed the color, he said a catchphrase for each one. For blue, he'd sing, "The sky is blue. How old are you?" For green, he'd say, "Green-go." For red, he'd say, "Red dead." And for yellow, he'd say, "Mellow yellow."

Nanny and Papa both had a different approach to playing the game with my older brother and I. Nanny went easy on us. She didn't have it in her to use any of the Draw Two or Draw Four cards against us. Papa, on the other hand, didn't have such qualms. He showed us no mercy. He'd slap those cards down onto the pile with a flourish and gave a mischievous chuckle as we drew two or four cards from the deck.

The more I played the game, the more I followed his lead. After winning a lot of games, he dubbed me the Uno Queen.

What can I say? I learned from the best.

In loving memory of my grandparents, Nanny and Papa.

Originally, this was going to be one long post, but after giving it some thought, I've decided that it'd be best to break everything down into smaller parts. That way, I don't get overwhelmed and lose focus. There's a lot I want to say about my grandparents and there are so many memories that I've made with them. I feel like the most productive approach to this would be to share my memories of them piece by piece, in a much more organized, focused manner.

With that said, I want to preface all of this by establishing my grandparents in the family tree as well as my relationship with them.

Their names are Dorothy and Joe. They're the parents of three children. My uncle Joey, named after Papa, is the oldest. My late aunt and godmother, Patricia, is the middle child. My mom is the youngest.

Ever since I was born, Nanny and Papa have been a huge, constant part of my life. There are plenty of pictures and videos of me with them as a baby, as a toddler, a prepubescent, and a teenager. Every summer, Mom would take my older brother Eric and I down to Florida to go visit them. At first, we'd stay with them for a week. That week became several before we finally settled on spending a month with them.

These summer vacations were the highlight of my childhood. We did so much together. We played games, two of the main ones being Uno and Rummikub. We lounged at the community pool. Whenever we had it to ourselves, we'd jump into the water and race each other on inflatable tubes. Papa would buy us week-long passes to theme parks. Nanny and Papa even took us on some cruises.

Throughout the years, we've made many memories together. Sure, I've had some rough patches with them, but those were very few and far between. I've had so much fun with them. We've shared many laughs and smiles. They've given me so much love and joy. They opened up the world to me and gave me an annual escape from my daily struggles. I'll always be grateful to them for everything aforementioned.

Now, I'm going to take a bunch of trips down memory lane. If this piques your interest somehow, you're more than welcome to join me. I'll do my best to allow you glimpses into my life with them. I'll paint small pictures so that you'll get a sense of the bigger picture. I do hope you enjoy this passion project of mine. Thank you for reading.

“It’s getting hot. Let me drive you guys.” My mom called from her home office.

“You know, I could always drive… the library is not that far…” I had to try.

“Nope. It’s only a permit. Besides, you know you can’t drive with your brother in the car.”

Crap. It’s only two weeks until my driver’s license appointment.

“Okay," I sigh loudly "We’re hoofin’ it. No big deal.”

“Wear hats and take water bottles. Text me when you get there. Keep an eye on your brother.” She pleaded, peeking her head out of her office doorway.

Like I wouldn’t. It’s all I ever do: keep an eye on The Oblivious One. My mom clings to worry like a talisman. As if letting it slip from her hands meant inviting “something bad” to happen.

“Okay, Safety Sue…” I mumbled under my breath, walking away.

“I heard that.”

Wow. How did she even hear that? Her hearing is as stellar as ever.

“Love you, Mom.”

“Bye Momma!” My little brother called out in his annoying Texan twang as we left. His voice had changed recently, but it still cracked in strange places when he spoke. Freaking hilarious when it did. And when is he going to stop calling her “Momma”, like a baby? Gross.

Dear God, please tell me I was not that awkward when I was that age.

We walked out of our planned community and onto the main road. Four lanes and a center turning lane. I wished I were driving instead.

I heard the honking ahead of us before I could see what was happening. The danger soon came into view. A white, flatbed work-type truck was driving erratically and too fast. Weaving into oncoming traffic, traveling in our direction.

SHIT. No time.No time.No time.

I looked at my brother, walking slowly—always so damn slow! Fumbling with his water bottle lid. Not even paying attention to his surroundings as usual! Can he not hear the commotion?! I felt instant annoyance and gripping fear.

Unless the truck suddenly did something completing unexpected and even possibly defied physics, it was going to hit us. Immediately. I thought about Trig class. Yeah. I didn’t need any fancy calculations right now to tell me we were about to get crushed.

No time.No time. We’re about to die RIGHT NOW.

I grabbed my little brother by the scruff of his t-shirt and by the back waist of his jeans. I hefted his thin body roughly over the guardrail on our right, swearing at myself for skipping the bench press lately. He let out a strangled, mixed cry of surprise and anger. His cry quickly morphed into noises of pain as he landed, tumbling violently down a slight embankment.

Tuck and roll, bro. Protect your face and head. We’ll worry about the rest later.

I heard the truck’s engine nearing as I remembered that hurdles were not my event. Turns out, they’re even harder to pull off from a standing position. I didn’t clear it. My left foot caught on the guardrail. I tensed up, not knowing which impact to expect first: the ground or the speeding truck.

Time’s up.

I know a lot of people say their lives flash before their eyes when they are in mortal danger. That wasn’t the case for me. Besides rapid-fire associations having to do with the immediate situation at hand, all my memories were of my little brother:

Feeding him as a baby.

Helping him take his first wobbly steps.

Cutting food in half and giving him the smaller piece.

Pushing him on the swings at the park.

Me taking his Legos.

Him taking my Naruto books.

My jealousy of how he could pick up any instrument and play it skillfully.

The two of us sneaking candy into the movie theater.

Laughing at stupid videos together on family road trips.

All I knew at that moment was that I could not let anything happen to him. I didn’t even think of myself for once. I thought of the worry in my mom’s eyes this morning before we left. I thought of how I’d rather die than have to tell her I had lost my little brother.

I tumbled hard as the sound of twisting metal and splintering wood took residence in my ears alongside the pounding whoosh of my rapid pulse. I had come to rest in a patch of fading bluebonnets, hurting, but alive. My little brother was now sitting up, rubbing his bloody elbow and taking inventory of the damage to his knee. He looked around for his glasses that had been knocked off during his fall. I hurt all over, but I’d take a look at my injuries later. I helped my brother to his feet. People were now gathering around the accident scene on the hillside just above us, trying to help the trapped driver, and calling for EMS.

“Whoa… Momma’s gonna freak OUT, right?”

I paused, wondering if there was any way we could NOT tell her. Negative.

“You bet your ass she will. You have no idea.”

I've deleted this paragraph four times, let's make it five. Remember when birthdays were fun, happy times? It's a loaded question, how many years I've graced this planet. I've contributed what I can, I'm older than I was then. There are many life lessons to learn, one is how to use the written word. I'll come back to this, I promise, after another decade of remorse, sorrow, discarded drafts and too much bourbon.

I was in my twenties once, living day to day, hoping to survive the decade without succumbing to pain. I hit thirty and realized I'm a third of the way through, if I am lucky. Perhaps it's all happenstance, a roulette of genetics. I take another sip of my drink and watch the condensation drip down the glass, another year in the bag, handed to me with a lemon slice on the edge.

We are all surviving, even if at different tempos. Each year is its own performance, percussion that continues. If the beat goes on, but no one is around to hear it, can you still call it music?

Are you listening to it?

Worked out

Showered

Having my tea

Waiting for an email

That doesn’t come

My workweek begins

A lot like

The last one ended

Magic admired

In the dark woods

Or perhaps collected

In a borrowed glass jar

Having to remind yourself

Wonder was never meant

To be contained

True love exists.

Do everything with pride and dignity.

Always plan your car trip ahead of time.

Read the instructions and manuals before you begin to work.

Keep your cooler stocked with Mountain Dew for lunch breaks and beers for clocking out.

Picking crabs is an art form.

The job isn’t done right if you’re not proud of your work.

Steak is best enjoyed medium rare.

Asparagus is the best vegetable.

Never quit…okay, it’s alright to quit sometimes, but just don’t give up too soon.

Love is more important than money and material things.

The best way to spend extra money is by making memories with your loved ones.

Say “I love you” all the time, and freely give hugs and kisses.

It’s okay for men and women to show their tenderness and express their feelings.

Whistle and sing often.

You probably won’t get pulled over if you’re driving 8 MPH over the speed limit.

Mustaches are cool.

Change elements of your life when you need to, even if it’s hard.

Don’t let the dog beg for food in the kitchen.

Don’t prejudge people, and give them second chances.

Most people are good hearted. We are all born kind.

Diligently compare prices and customer reviews before you buy something.

Have nicknames and inside jokes with the people you love. It’s something special you can always share with them.

A little dark humor is good, but corny jokes are the best.

You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.

Genuinely ask people about themselves, and show you care by listening to them and remembering the little details.

Mom deserves the best of everything, and so do you. Don’t settle for less.

Righty tighty, lefty loosey. Unless it’s upside down, then it might be lefty tighty.

Play in the ocean, but never turn your back on the waves.

The waves come in sets of three, and the third one is usually the best for boogie boarding.

Red sky at night is a sailor’s delight. Red sky in the morning is a sailor’s warning.

Only flip hamburgers once.

Stand up to bullies.

Let loose on the dance floor.

Help anyone who needs it.

If something breaks, try to fix it, but know when to move on.

Double check ratchet straps and trailer hitches.

Packing up the car for road tips is a geometry puzzle and you can definitely make it all fit. Just don’t block your mirrors and windows.

Check your breaks in the ice and snow.

Kids need sports and hobbies to keep them out of trouble and cultivate the best traits and values.

Courage and bravery isn’t a lack of fear, it’s overcoming the things that scare you.

Trust your instincts.

Work hard.

Eat breakfast for dinner.

Love your family.

Enjoy your friends.

Laugh lots.

Get lost in the moment.

Wholeheartedly soak up life.

Never forget how loved you are.

Shadows sweep the boulevards; Winding their way around lampposts,

Climbing along trellises, slinking up shop walls.

A single shadow, attached to human feet must get lonely.

Feeling cold, hard stones, metal and concrete along its edges only.

Darkness is simply the only time shadows can get together and play. Oh, the dances they dance, such a glorious array.

We humans truly miss out on the nighttime display,

Of laughter and gaiety in the streets once past day.

A shadow does not merely disappear

When the sun refuses to shine for a time.

Does something not exist just because we cannot see it?

Does it fail to exist all due to lack of [sun]shine?

But this, dear reader, is the timing of true mystique.

These are the things we shall miss if we stop too long to blink.

Soulmates find each other in this darkness at daylight’s end.

Meeting up in full moonlight, as the shadow dances descend.

The timbre of stars is like nothing a human ear could ever recount,

For it only alights when shadows abound.

How else to explain the ignition of touch,

That occurs when two “strangers” meet after the dusk?

Oh, dappy mortal, who thinks this mere fate.

Did you not realize your shadow had already found your mate?

When humanity steps back, permitting the ethereal its part. Well, this is when true romance is aware in the heart.

So upon next moon’s cycle, when dusk begins its measured fade,

Take a tiptoe out into moonlight’s cascade.

Beware ne’re to disturb, this ethereal dance,

But instead, simply view its gossamer beauty as pure happenstance.

For where mortal and spectral gaze upon one another,

The spell hence is broken, the magic disentangled.

Thus rendering the chance at true love eternally strangled.

But for those mere observers who catch a fleeting glimpse of the phantasmic,

urely will know love’s quintessential magic.