I went to visit my grandpa. He said we were going to visit his old friend in the nursing home. The old friend was out of town because he needed to visit his mother.
Visit.
Visit a friend
Surprise and just show up at the front door without a call
Cousins,
Scarleth
People that live by
that it wouldn’t be hassel for me to just drop by
for a surprise
visit.
Grandparents. I love to visit grandparents, or have them visit me. I think of memories and old houses. I think of pictures and the stories that go with them. I think how a visit doesn’t mean you stay all that long. Some visits are too short and some are too long! I spent one glorious summer with my grandparents when I was in high school….love those memories of our time together. Now my own children love to have their grandparents visit. Of course, this sometimes depends on WHICH set of grandparents is visiting.
Visit also makes me think of dental and doctor’s visits. I don’t necessarily like those.
i went to visit my grandma. youd think itd be like any visit. but you go over the hills and follow your instinct& when you finally get there you look back& find yourself in a place far away from where you started, right where you ever wanted.
The scene of the crime, the scene of the crime, they always revisit the scene of the crime.
No matter that it may be covered in lime, they always revisit the scene of the crime
My friend is planning to visit in a month… and I’m so excited, but I can’t help wondering in the back of my mind if I’m prepared to help her cope with the end of her three year relationship and the recurrence of her mother’s cancer. I like to think I’m a good friend, but I’m not sure if I’m up to that much of a challenge. But here’s hoping the visit is every bit the amazing escape she needs it to be.
The cat came to visit her. She did this regularly every winter. She would never stay, but would rub against her legs and eagerly eat the treats offered her. She didn’t want to be a spoiled indoor cat. Sometimes it surely got cold though. She wanted a right kitty condo is all.
“Hey” I say as I sit at the chair across from her. The cafe was the one we always used to visit. She just stares at me; like I’m a monster; like I shouldn’t exist. But hey, why should I?
I had to visit that chapter of my life when I traveled to Rome in summer ’96. The doctor said I couldn’t make it, although, all the members of my family -suspiciously caring about my parson-, said I should take the opportunity of comprehend the marvelous world of spirituality that surrounds such beautiful place.
i went to visit the wizard today. you wouldn’t believe the potions he want to conjure. Except he want to experiment it on me, which, I’m not so certain about…
I love visiting other countries. It’s my passion. I love throwing myself out of my comfort zone, into unfamiliar places, situations and among unknown faces. There is something thrilling about it. Your adrenaline starts pumping and at any moment you can turn a corner and find something amazing.
I had to visit that Chapter of my life when I traveled to Rome in ’96 summer. The doctor said I couldn’t make it, although, all the members of my family -suspiciously caring about my parson- said I should take the opportunity of comprehend the marvelous world of spirituality that surrounds that beautiful city.
I loved to visit my grandparents. It was a thing to look forward to. Grandad would take me to work with him. Grammy did crafts with me and taught me to love memorizing scripture. I miss my grandmother a lot. I’m glad my granddad lives close by now.
I loved to visit my grandparents. It was a thing to look forward to. Grandad would take me to work with him. Grammy did crafts with me and taught me to love memorizing scripture. I miss my grandmother a lot. I’m glad my granddad lives close by now.
I went to my grandmother’s home for dinner. THe visit was great as always. Her cooking is the best. I especially love her stuffed grape leaves. Her English is getting better; it’s easier to have a conversation with her now. Grandpa is another story. He is still resistant to learning new things.
The memories drift in like a visit from the past
From a far away land, barren and vast
Impacting the present they make us contrast
are real thoughts which finish last
The visit was brief and beyond cluttered with the clucking of mothers, aunts, and grandmothers, all clamoring over the children as though they would dissolve without the slime of kisses to stick their pieces in place.
When I visit home
and the plane glides over towns I look down, it’s like the night sky in reverse
and I look for constellations in the road lights and trees.
The windows sparkle and the traffic flows like river
as cities play out below me like boys fighting dragons
Suddenly, he sensed it; her presence. He always knew when she visited him because she brought along the memory and mood of every horrible event every to unfold. A memorial.
She went to visit him. She hadn’t for a while, not since the accident, but she figured it’d be good for her if she did. Might help her sleep at night. As she walked in the hospital room, she saw his body, the only thing keeping him alive being the tube down his throat, and, in the quietest voice she had ever used, whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
i once visited the dune du pila in the south of france. the sand scorched our feet and we all rolled down the sand dune 5 or 6 times, it was a great day full of laughs and sandy pockets.
I love to visit. It’s nice, because there’s no commitment in the word “visit”. When you’re visiting your family, that doesn’t ever suggest that you’re very close. Same with “to pay someone a visit.” It sounds like you’re just popping in for a nice chat and maybe some tea, but nothing more.
Every time she visits. It’s like my whole past is shoved back in my face at full force. There’s something in the way she hints, that she wants me to remember. She knows, oh she knows it’s horrible but I think there’s an evil/curious part of her that wants to know.
He wasn’t expecting anyone, but when the doorbell rang, he was happy for the distraction.
Has he made is way to the door, he wonder who or what it might be, the excitement was palpable. He open the door and saw….
I love to visit places, especially new ones. I want to accumulate as many places I’ve visited one day, even the little places that I’ve been only for a bathroom break. Thats one thing I like about social media now a days, it complete tracks the places you’ve been to. Facebook with “check ins” instagram tracks where your pictures have been taken. I just like remembering the things I’ve done, I fear that I start to forget certain experiences or memories and that starts to give me anxiety. So I try to do my best to remember. Remember the places I’ve visited, remember the things I see, remember the people I’ve met and remember the connections I’ve made.
Please visit me. I’m awfully lonely here all by myself. I know I chose this life, this lonesome path. I know we all walk alone, and that coming to terms with solitude is the crux of the human condition. But I’d still like it if you were to visit.
It reminds me of Christmas. Of those winter, snow-filled days when family came. Family that we almost never saw. People from West Virginia, Oregon, Hawaii. While crazy at the time, they never seemed to stay for long enough. Playing hide and seek and getting hit in the head with baseballs. Ahh… good times.
Visits tend to be short. Too short for me. Part of me wants to stay and live there forever and another can’t wait to get out. Sometimes I get so tired living in this world. Its deeper than they all see.
Most of my family lives close to home. We needn’t travel very far to see them. There are many cousins and siblings and relatives who have birthdays, and for each one we gather and celebrate.
It wouldn’t be for long, as the travel time wasn’t very far. It’s not that he didn’t like seeing her, it’s that he wasn’t so sure she was fond of seeing him. He thought of the worst that could happen, which amounted to nothing more than a dirty tank. The Discovery channel was set to accompany him on this particular visit to Shamu, though he didn’t see what was so ‘obsessive’ about their relationship.
I want to visit you. there is so much left unfinished between us. i feel like i don’t know you. how can that be? you were my world. you took me into your life. a beautiful life. then you took it away. i want to visit you, but am afraid you will hurt me again. Will you? Or am i just nothing to you anymore? Am i not even worth your time anymore? i guess so.
The stranger came for a visit that day. We had been expecting his arrival, but we knew not what form he would take. It was different with each one. Memories of past Strangers often haunted my waking hours. So much so that dreams were often a respite.
i visit her, like i do every sunday after church. i know she won’t wake up but i always hope she will. she lays there, her chest rising and falling down again. i love to comb her long hair, gray but still in breath taking curls like it always is. i talk to her fill her in on town gossip and such. i let the sunlight flood in and sit waiting for her to wake up.
Mabel has taken care of me since my parents died when i was a month old. my parents died in a shooting. they still don’t know who the shooter is either. sad, and a bit nerving, i know. some say he had a thing against my grandmother, who passed away giving birth to my mother. but, my grandmother was loved by all, according to mabel who was my grandmother’s best friend and is my guardian. mabel is the kind of woman who spends most of her time baking cookies and reading on the porch. she makes the best lemonade in the whole town. and she always knows how to cheer me up. but, now she spends her days in the hospital, sick as a dog. i live in her house,which is where i grew up in, my home. a cute little house too, with blue shutters and a nice porch. right in our little town, blue gem, after the flower. we have those flowers everywhere too, beautiful little things, deep rich blue in color. we have ’em all over the library, which i own and work at. i love books so i also happen to love my job. i must have gotten my love of books from mabel. i miss her, i wish she could heal. i miss her laugh, her smile, and her heart warming hugs. she always has that comfort and warmth about her. ….wake up, mabel…. mabel…. wake up….
Yesterday I visited my grandmother for the first time in years. I was afraid of what would happen since she has Alzheimer’s. She didn’t remember me. I was crushed.
I went to visit my grandpa. He said we were going to visit his old friend in the nursing home. The old friend was out of town because he needed to visit his mother.
Visit.
Visit a friend
Surprise and just show up at the front door without a call
Cousins,
Scarleth
People that live by
that it wouldn’t be hassel for me to just drop by
for a surprise
visit.
someone special to me, and the ocean
Grandparents. I love to visit grandparents, or have them visit me. I think of memories and old houses. I think of pictures and the stories that go with them. I think how a visit doesn’t mean you stay all that long. Some visits are too short and some are too long! I spent one glorious summer with my grandparents when I was in high school….love those memories of our time together. Now my own children love to have their grandparents visit. Of course, this sometimes depends on WHICH set of grandparents is visiting.
Visit also makes me think of dental and doctor’s visits. I don’t necessarily like those.
i went to visit my grandma. youd think itd be like any visit. but you go over the hills and follow your instinct& when you finally get there you look back& find yourself in a place far away from where you started, right where you ever wanted.
The scene of the crime, the scene of the crime, they always revisit the scene of the crime.
No matter that it may be covered in lime, they always revisit the scene of the crime
My friend is planning to visit in a month… and I’m so excited, but I can’t help wondering in the back of my mind if I’m prepared to help her cope with the end of her three year relationship and the recurrence of her mother’s cancer. I like to think I’m a good friend, but I’m not sure if I’m up to that much of a challenge. But here’s hoping the visit is every bit the amazing escape she needs it to be.
The cat came to visit her. She did this regularly every winter. She would never stay, but would rub against her legs and eagerly eat the treats offered her. She didn’t want to be a spoiled indoor cat. Sometimes it surely got cold though. She wanted a right kitty condo is all.
“Hey” I say as I sit at the chair across from her. The cafe was the one we always used to visit. She just stares at me; like I’m a monster; like I shouldn’t exist. But hey, why should I?
I had to visit that chapter of my life when I traveled to Rome in summer ’96. The doctor said I couldn’t make it, although, all the members of my family -suspiciously caring about my parson-, said I should take the opportunity of comprehend the marvelous world of spirituality that surrounds such beautiful place.
i went to visit the wizard today. you wouldn’t believe the potions he want to conjure. Except he want to experiment it on me, which, I’m not so certain about…
I love visiting other countries. It’s my passion. I love throwing myself out of my comfort zone, into unfamiliar places, situations and among unknown faces. There is something thrilling about it. Your adrenaline starts pumping and at any moment you can turn a corner and find something amazing.
I had to visit that Chapter of my life when I traveled to Rome in ’96 summer. The doctor said I couldn’t make it, although, all the members of my family -suspiciously caring about my parson- said I should take the opportunity of comprehend the marvelous world of spirituality that surrounds that beautiful city.
I loved to visit my grandparents. It was a thing to look forward to. Grandad would take me to work with him. Grammy did crafts with me and taught me to love memorizing scripture. I miss my grandmother a lot. I’m glad my granddad lives close by now.
I loved to visit my grandparents. It was a thing to look forward to. Grandad would take me to work with him. Grammy did crafts with me and taught me to love memorizing scripture. I miss my grandmother a lot. I’m glad my granddad lives close by now.
I went to my grandmother’s home for dinner. THe visit was great as always. Her cooking is the best. I especially love her stuffed grape leaves. Her English is getting better; it’s easier to have a conversation with her now. Grandpa is another story. He is still resistant to learning new things.
Travelling, London, Family, Airplanes, Friends, Japan, India
The memories drift in like a visit from the past
From a far away land, barren and vast
Impacting the present they make us contrast
are real thoughts which finish last
The visit was brief and beyond cluttered with the clucking of mothers, aunts, and grandmothers, all clamoring over the children as though they would dissolve without the slime of kisses to stick their pieces in place.
Reunion of souls,
Once upon a time departed.
The bliss of seeing another’s face,
Well worth the duration of the time in between.
Stop by for a visit? Please?
When I visit home
and the plane glides over towns I look down, it’s like the night sky in reverse
and I look for constellations in the road lights and trees.
The windows sparkle and the traffic flows like river
as cities play out below me like boys fighting dragons
Christmas 2012.
Suddenly, he sensed it; her presence. He always knew when she visited him because she brought along the memory and mood of every horrible event every to unfold. A memorial.
She went to visit him. She hadn’t for a while, not since the accident, but she figured it’d be good for her if she did. Might help her sleep at night. As she walked in the hospital room, she saw his body, the only thing keeping him alive being the tube down his throat, and, in the quietest voice she had ever used, whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
i once visited the dune du pila in the south of france. the sand scorched our feet and we all rolled down the sand dune 5 or 6 times, it was a great day full of laughs and sandy pockets.
I love to visit. It’s nice, because there’s no commitment in the word “visit”. When you’re visiting your family, that doesn’t ever suggest that you’re very close. Same with “to pay someone a visit.” It sounds like you’re just popping in for a nice chat and maybe some tea, but nothing more.
Every time she visits. It’s like my whole past is shoved back in my face at full force. There’s something in the way she hints, that she wants me to remember. She knows, oh she knows it’s horrible but I think there’s an evil/curious part of her that wants to know.
He wasn’t expecting anyone, but when the doorbell rang, he was happy for the distraction.
Has he made is way to the door, he wonder who or what it might be, the excitement was palpable. He open the door and saw….
I love to visit places, especially new ones. I want to accumulate as many places I’ve visited one day, even the little places that I’ve been only for a bathroom break. Thats one thing I like about social media now a days, it complete tracks the places you’ve been to. Facebook with “check ins” instagram tracks where your pictures have been taken. I just like remembering the things I’ve done, I fear that I start to forget certain experiences or memories and that starts to give me anxiety. So I try to do my best to remember. Remember the places I’ve visited, remember the things I see, remember the people I’ve met and remember the connections I’ve made.
Please visit me. I’m awfully lonely here all by myself. I know I chose this life, this lonesome path. I know we all walk alone, and that coming to terms with solitude is the crux of the human condition. But I’d still like it if you were to visit.
It reminds me of Christmas. Of those winter, snow-filled days when family came. Family that we almost never saw. People from West Virginia, Oregon, Hawaii. While crazy at the time, they never seemed to stay for long enough. Playing hide and seek and getting hit in the head with baseballs. Ahh… good times.
Visits tend to be short. Too short for me. Part of me wants to stay and live there forever and another can’t wait to get out. Sometimes I get so tired living in this world. Its deeper than they all see.
Most of my family lives close to home. We needn’t travel very far to see them. There are many cousins and siblings and relatives who have birthdays, and for each one we gather and celebrate.
It wouldn’t be for long, as the travel time wasn’t very far. It’s not that he didn’t like seeing her, it’s that he wasn’t so sure she was fond of seeing him. He thought of the worst that could happen, which amounted to nothing more than a dirty tank. The Discovery channel was set to accompany him on this particular visit to Shamu, though he didn’t see what was so ‘obsessive’ about their relationship.
I want to visit you. there is so much left unfinished between us. i feel like i don’t know you. how can that be? you were my world. you took me into your life. a beautiful life. then you took it away. i want to visit you, but am afraid you will hurt me again. Will you? Or am i just nothing to you anymore? Am i not even worth your time anymore? i guess so.
The stranger came for a visit that day. We had been expecting his arrival, but we knew not what form he would take. It was different with each one. Memories of past Strangers often haunted my waking hours. So much so that dreams were often a respite.
i visit her, like i do every sunday after church. i know she won’t wake up but i always hope she will. she lays there, her chest rising and falling down again. i love to comb her long hair, gray but still in breath taking curls like it always is. i talk to her fill her in on town gossip and such. i let the sunlight flood in and sit waiting for her to wake up.
Mabel has taken care of me since my parents died when i was a month old. my parents died in a shooting. they still don’t know who the shooter is either. sad, and a bit nerving, i know. some say he had a thing against my grandmother, who passed away giving birth to my mother. but, my grandmother was loved by all, according to mabel who was my grandmother’s best friend and is my guardian. mabel is the kind of woman who spends most of her time baking cookies and reading on the porch. she makes the best lemonade in the whole town. and she always knows how to cheer me up. but, now she spends her days in the hospital, sick as a dog. i live in her house,which is where i grew up in, my home. a cute little house too, with blue shutters and a nice porch. right in our little town, blue gem, after the flower. we have those flowers everywhere too, beautiful little things, deep rich blue in color. we have ’em all over the library, which i own and work at. i love books so i also happen to love my job. i must have gotten my love of books from mabel. i miss her, i wish she could heal. i miss her laugh, her smile, and her heart warming hugs. she always has that comfort and warmth about her. ….wake up, mabel…. mabel…. wake up….
Yesterday I visited my grandmother for the first time in years. I was afraid of what would happen since she has Alzheimer’s. She didn’t remember me. I was crushed.
Visit me when you’re dreaming. Come take a trip across memory lane. Swing by as you sink into sleep and remind me that it’s okay for me to dream too.