My Grandma's Gift to Me
It was summer 2014. The air was hot, and humid. I was driving down back road after back road seeing nothing but cornfields to my left and right. My windows were rolled down and my hair flew in the breeze. I was completely overwhelmed with joy and happiness. Johnny Cash played on my radio--it seemed only fitting. In my rearview window all I could see was dust as I hurried to my favorite place on earth. It was the place where all my childhood fantasies came true: where I learned to play guitar, where I learned to fish and hunt, where I learned to ride horses, but most importantly it was the place that built me into the individual I am today. Growing up, grandma's house was my sanctuary. It was a place where I learned to be a woman.
My favorite memory was waking up to the smell of biscuits and gravy, with 1990's country playing on the radio. My grandma taught me manners, she taught me how to clean, how to cook the most amazing, fattening southern food known to mankind. From an early age, I've had an inseparable bond with my grandmother. So much that when it was time for my mom to come get me, I would cry from the moment I knew she was on the way, until the time we were home.
I finally pulled in the long gravel driveway. My grandma and grandpa were outside picking green beans out of the field to my left. My grandparents loved like no other--they had been together 64 years and have never left each other's side. I got out of my car that was covered in dust, my grandma looked up with the biggest...