Today, we rest in grandma and grandpa’s dark living room with its unfinished wood floors and wandering felines, a space that gently suggests I set aside my to do list. Matthew, mesmerized before pbs kids, plays with a space recently occupied by a small white tooth. Devyn lounges on a blue couch cover and an over-sized maroon pillow. Above him, a couple of frogs smile in my general direction. I’m a temporary fixture atop a blanket that reminds me of New Mexico. The heater kicks on, drowning out tinny TV voices.

Grandpa’s stack of papers, a pile of VHS tapes on a rolling cabinet, fur everywhere – all would bother me at home. Here, they are home, unappreciated during childhood, a haven this afternoon.

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