letters to people.

I had a good day with my Grandparents. They are amazing people. I could listen to them talk all day and all night, and I would never be bored. I accidentally insulted my Grandfather, cause I tripped over some words as I spewed them out, when I tried to tip-toe backwards out of the statement I fell further in the hole of being rude. What are you doing right now? I'm feeling like I'm hurdling through time and space too quickly for my own good and I can't open my eyes because the wind is so strong,

probably drank too much caffeine today,

maybe just forgot to appreciate life.
[for lunch I had homemade lentil soup and glaceed apricots for dessert. I sat opposite my Grandmother, saw myself in her eyes and got rather lost. I heard her tone, I saw her blinking back the emotions that aren't allowed yet still arise. I saw her carrying 7 decades of pain around, slipped under her translucent skin just burning there forever. I saw her being strong, loving so intensely without ever getting very close. My grandparents took turns showing me pictures of them when they were kids. As my grandfather flipped the pages of the old tattered photo albums I could hear the glue separating from the pictures and I watches his skin crinkle, red and dried skin that have been through war and birth and death and adventure and sailing. His hands have been through the births of 5 children, 9 grandchildren. His hands have held money from over 40 different countries and saved hundreds of lives. They've held horse shit and baby puke, and he's lost 3 or 4 fingers, all reattached later. His hands have felt the softness of his puppy's fur, and the cold metallic gates of prison camp. His worn, tired hands are the most beautiful thing I've seen in such a long time.]