The baby Blues

​I can’t sing or play, but I sing anyway. 

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Vivid dreams.

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My grandparents.

​ When I think about my grandparents, I have four different types of memories.  I only visited my Grandma Sutton a few times a year. My earliest memory of her is at my dad’s childhood home. I’m sitting in the kitchen listening to my mom and my grandma talk. I’m not sure what they were talking about because I heard adults talking to each other like adults on Charlie Brown specials. Waaah, waaa, wa, Waah, wa. There was a pitcher pump inside the kitchen. She gave me a container of strawberry yogurt from the 60’s style refrigerator. I’ve always liked strawberry yogurt. I can hear her voice, but there’s not many specific memories.  I never got to meet my grandpa Sutton. I feel like I knew him, though. I’ve heard stories about him since I was very little. Recently I’ve written down several of them before I forget them. I’ve got so many questions I would like to ask him, but I can’t. I rely on what my aunt and my dad have told me. My grandpa Townsend told me my grandpa Sutton carried...
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Thanksgiving at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

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