Squishy Hearts

My Grandma Waddoups left my children and I with a sweet tradition, one where we together bask in the simple and natural beauties of this life, and something so represented by my dear grandmother. I do not recall another person who loved to watch the birds as long as she did, who examined the leaves as closely as she did, or who looked at the clouds as often as she did. On her window in her room, Grandma Waddoups displayed what my children and I call squishies. Hers were flowers, ours are hearts. Each time we visited she would show us the colors her squishy flowers made on the floor or the walls. She found pleasure watching the colorful shapes move across the room. Now, my children and I, in turn, find pleasure each morning as we watch the squishy hearts on our windows create its shape on our floor and move across the room with the moving of the sun. We never weary of it. I am reminded each time of my dear grandmother who showed a pure love and lifes pleasures. I might have said simple pleasure but if you have ever taken the time to examine a leaf you will find it is not simple. And to think, I sometimes forget to be happy.