last night i had a good conversation with my grandparents. as i ran my fingertips over the raised letters of their names on the brass plaques installed at their church, i told them what i’ve been up to. i told oma i’d flunked the bar, that she was right about my husband, and that her art supplies are being put to good use. i told granddaddy i’d accepted a federal job, but still hadn’t quite perfected the skill of dodging raindrops to avoid getting wet.

as i turned to walk away, i could’ve sworn i heard granddaddy telling me to bring an umbrella next time, so i could stay longer.