When I was growing up, we would go over to my Granny Mac’s house every Sunday after church. The whole family would be there. She and my Grandma Barbara (her daughter) would put us to work in her garden before we had lunch.
She had a huge lot with lots of different fruit trees and vegetables. My mom would send my brothers and I up the cherry trees with buckets. Telling us to eat our fill before we started filling the buckets. We would finish with wine stained mouths, hands, stomach aches and buckets full of dark red cherries. She canned and froze everything and we were always helping in the kitchen or at the kitchen table.
The kitchen table was small but it had slides where you could pull the ends apart and insert extenders since there were so many of us. It sat right next to a huge bay window that looked out onto the backyard.
In that window hung lots of prisms. Different shapes and sizes and when the light would hit them, they created dancing rainbows all over the house. They were hung with fishing line and we would spin them as tight as they could wind and let them spin out and laugh at the crazy colors all over the house.
That was a cherished time in my childhood, surrounded by family…..always. After Granny Mac died, my Grandma Barbara put the prisms in her window and the tradition continued. Along with family dinners.
When I entered the service and started making my way in this crazy world, I would find prisms and hang them in my house. I still continued to spin them and watch them dance.
When Grandma Barbara died, the only things I asked for from her estate was a prism and books that she had been reading. After we had the house built, I hung them up in the kitchen where they got the morning sun.
One day our good friend Neal came over and saw them in the windows. I explained what they were and the history. Not long after Frank died, I was sitting on the couch and looking at the walls where the rainbows were on full display and a thought popped into my head “You are going to be ok”……
Maybe it was God, maybe Grandma Barbara, maybe it was Franco. Even now, remembering hearing that thought causes me to tear up.
Weeks later, I get a text message from Neal that he found some on a job site and gave me a box full of different size prisms. It was the sweetest gesture. I just finished hanging them in all the windows downstairs. Now they are just waiting for the light to come through and when it does, I’ll spin them and think of all the people that I have loved and lost and all the wonderful memories that we made together.
But most of all, I know that I’ll be ok.