Grandma's Farm

"Remember the time we stayed at Grandma's farm?" Mom asked from the kitchen as I settled prostrate on the couch turning on the T.V.

"Yeah," I replied impetuously.

"Well, she's selling it," Mom replied slightly agitated at my haughtiness.

I froze in consternation.

"What?" was all that escaped my mouth.

"She's selling it, Lina."

The sounds from the movie on the televiosion screen started to drain in my racing thoughts. Haven't she said we could come back anytime? I pondered. I could picture my cousins, Julie and Carrie, and I plucking berries from her berry bushes, making sounds of revelry as we skipped along the beaten path. I remember putting together bright flowers from Grandma's garden to make garlands for Mom and Dad. I recall the delectable taste of Grandma's bluberry pie made from the berries we picked when we had that lavish dinner at her house on the last day of our stay; everyone, Mom, Dad, Julie and Carrie, Grandma, Uncle Henry and Aunt Trudy(Julie and Carrie's parents) and me, were at the table, our faces lit up with rapture.

"Lina?" Mom's voice cut off my flashbacks, " You okay?"

"Tell her not to sell it, Mom," I beseeched.

"It's not my choice, sweetie. Just feel privileged to have such a gratifying childhood," she strided from the kitchen and hugged me tightly.

I stared at the credits on the screen as she squeezed me. They were appearing and disappearing--changing, like my life starting from now.