• Lauren Dufault


I remember when I was young, I used to sit on the porch outlooking the yard at my grandparents house. The house was surrounded by trees, built at the bottom of a slope in a neighborhood that had no idea it would be worth millions one day.

I remember sitting on that old porch and gazing out at the trees in wonderment as the wind told them which way to dance.

Much like leaves heard traces of the wind, my ears would catch glimpses of what the adults in the kitchen would say.

I couldn't tell you if you told stories, or talked about politics, or even us kids. I was too busy listening to the wind and watching the trees dance.

And now.

I wish.

I wish I called you more.

I wish I wondered about your life and actually had the courage to ask about it, instead of sit and tell people facts I thought I knew about you. Turns out, I didn't know you at all.

I had no idea you were scared of dying. I never thought you held on to secrets so tight, that the only person you wanted to hear it was god.

I remember staring into your blue eyes, and understanding the jealously the ocean had for them. How could one man have such blue eyes?

But the sky was also blue, so I ran outside to play.

As each year went by and I never called, your shoulder slunk deeper and deeper into the age you carried. I wish I helped you walk. Even though I know you wouldn't have wanted help at all.

But by that time I had followed the clouds far away.

How much did you hurt? And how much do I owe you for all the pizza from Marias?

I remember all the trips we used to take down to your house on the slope worth millions one day. It felt like you lived all the way across the world, the most exciting place.

But soon I learned to drive and called another state home.

The bits and pieces of you I gathered when I was a child almost seem undeserved, because of the lack of them in my later years.

I wish I called you more.

If I had only know that the wind is settled in time, and the voices in the kitchen one day stop speaking. I would have listened.


Recent Posts

See All

A Farticle

What is a farticle you ask? Ill tell you. In my world, it is something like a fake article. Well, it actually IS one. So yes, go enjoy this farticle I wrote some months ago..... 5 Reasons to never go

A Sober Death

As I stood there gazing out of the window at the blue sky, and the not so colorful brown buildings, I thought about how my life had been a sweet rollercoaster of ups and downs. I thought about how the

   © 2023 Andrew Larson. Proudly created with

  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon