Clean Air
I remember the smell that permeated from the small house in the bend of the dirt road, steamed cabbage and spicy perfume. It circled through the kitchen, out through the screen door, and onto the porch. My grandparents lived there, comfortably. They had journeyed three hours away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Towering trees and hills surrounded their little white house. On the guided words of my grandfather’s doctor, they moved into the clean mountain air. It would clear his lungs of emphysema. I was born into that clean air. He died there when I was just 10 years old.
Audrey, this is the first of a book of short stories that I wrote about your Great Gram. She was an incredible woman, and besides Pop and Mom-Mom, she was the biggest presence in my life growing up. She would have loved you, your spunk. You get that from her. So, I wanted to post the short stories that I wrote every so often, so that there is a place, for you to enjoy them.
I hope as you read them, you can picture what she was like and the part she played in my life.
Love, Mom
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