one traumatic flight on a plane operated by a hamster later, and i've arrived home. i'm not from here, but it's the only place that i can count on things being exactly the same as when i left them. except the people i come to visit get a little older.
that's michigan out the airplane window, and those are my grandparents. lunch, for as long as i can remember, consists of tuna fish, salad, and a plate of fruits which my grandfather stabs at with a fork. grandpa leaves for his siesta, and grandma and i sit and talk. which is what we do most of the time i am here.
this time, so far, i've heard stories i've never heard before. including the one about how when they first moved here from brasil, my grandpa took my grandma out on a date. to the grocery store.