when the camillias bloom, i think about my grandma dee. her back garden in california was filled with avocado, lemon and pomegranate trees and bordered with the most glorious camillias in the world. worn out from playing, i would lie on the grass and fall asleep in the sun. when dusk arrived, grandma would bring me in the little house, feed me dinner and we'd sit on the floor in front of the television, singing along to the porter wagoner show (my shoes pay homage). she would let me brush her long black hair for hours. sometimes she'd give me coffee with milk and sugar. my mother would have had a fit. first of all, coffee. and secondly, right before bedtime? yet i would slumber sound in the big bed, buried under handmade quilts, loved completely.
