Summer vacation was special for us as kids. 
Ten days with maternal grandparents. They lived in a city. Exhibition, movies and shopping occupied us.
Ten days were spent with paternal grandparents. They lived in a small rural town.  Hunting, fishing and picnicking were the draw.
My kids usually spent part of their summer holidays with my parents.
My paternal grandparents lived within a mission hospital compound. Its center was a church. I loved its quaint quietness and mystical sanctity.

I took my kids there for a visit. I showed them my roots and theirs.

The following year my dad died.
*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt © Roger Bultot

17 thoughts on “IT’S SUMMER TIME

  1. Lovely story of sharing one’s roots. Thankfully the kids got a chance to spend quality time with their grandparents.


  2. A beautiful story despite the sadness. The kids hopefully will value the time they had with their grandparents.


  3. A lovely story, Sabina. It was great all of you got to spend time with the grandparents. My dad died two-and-a-half years after my second child was born. I’m glad he got to spend at least that much time with them. They didn’t get to spend much time with my husband’s mother (his father died when he was ten) as she lived in India. They knew my mother best as she lived to be ninety-three. They do know other members of my husband’s family. 🙂 — Suzanne


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