Today, I am thinking about my grandmother. 

It’s probably because I am wearing the ring I chose of hers after her passing. It’s the first time I’ve worn it in six months since my hands were too swollen up until now. 

The ring itself has lovely lavender stones and looks like a crown. It’s fitting as she definitely was the social queen of the Newburyport scene. 

It has been two months since my husband and I relocated back to Beverly, and up until last night, we still didn’t have any art on the walls. That’s a surprising thing for us as we usually decorate our space around the art rather than the reverse. 

Yesterday, I got tired of waiting. 

I painted a whole entire room in service of hanging art on the walls. And then, when I was finished and covered from head to toe in paint, I unearthed the piece I inherited from her. I have always adored it. It is a print of Plum Island, a place she always enjoyed, at night with the mist rolling in. It’s calming, but also eerily haunting. You can almost hear the hum of the yellow lights burning their way out of windows and through the cold ocean air when you look into it. 

I guess I am just missing her a bit today. It’s funny how that happens in waves…much like the ocean. She always loved the ocean. I wonder if this is her way of waving at me.