On my hands and knees I scooped the leaves into the trash bag and packed them down. She leaned on her rake like a walking stick and reminisced on her labors as a child. She worked in her fathers auto body shop, she picked cotton by hand and she always worked, even after 5 kids came into the picture. I looked up into the loving set of eyes that held a lifetime of good and bad times she had lived through.
Her small framed figure blocked the morning sun from my face as I squinted and replied
less talky talky more raking Grandma