i ate a raspberry today, and it took me right back to grandma's garden. the wild raspberries in michigan by the lake that grew back by the barn. that barn was grandpa's space. i'd visit him there on long days at the cottage, a short walk down the friendly road. days for my brother and i to explore islands with ducks and have canoe trips with snacks. days for swimming so much my hair turned into silk from the lake water and my skin golden from the sun. days for inner tubes and sandwiches on the dock, cards at the front table and nancy drew in the red chair with soft arms.

this raspberry, it took me back to grandpa on the tractor, cutting grass and smelling like gasoline. the trellace next to grandma's gladiola's, and waiting for the mail on the curb. collecting a bowl full of sweetness for lunch, and his arm on my shoulder. his tallness walking next to me. being afraid of him. knowing he loved me.

it took me back to running on sidewalks, and boundless energy. the feeling of an endless summer, and all that i didn't know. the safety of a family with roots, and traditions i will always carry. i know this taste. there are stories to tell, and so much to pass on.