A Heavenly Haven

I'm having a moment.  I was sitting in bed; piled high with all my books - intent on journaling, meditating, soul searching...and then I hear it.  The mourning dove's coo. And tears stream down my face.  Not sad tears.  I'd call them tears of gratitude. 

The "coo" is one of three sounds that instantly transport me back - to summers in Long Island.  I've mentioned the crunch of gravel and then there's the whistle of a train. 

I closed my eyes and crawled deeper into my nest of ironed, crisp, luxurious sheets.  The window is open and I hear someone walking the driveway.  It's probably the gardener.  He walks the grounds, babying the roses and dressing them for the day.  He snips a few for Mimi's breakfast tray and various vignettes around the house.

It dawns on me how summers there were not only vacation but a much needed respite (def.: "an interval of rest or relief").  As a young girl I knew I needed it.  Craved it.  But NOW I know....it was a relief.  Such a relief to flee from the tension I felt at home.  This is my perception - my memory.  Recently, one of my brothers and I reminisced and learned we had varying and VERY different perceptions of our childhood. 

Thankfully we stopped before the hurts hurt more but I should have said how dare you?  How dare you tell me what to think, or what to remember.   I know what I know:

Getting away from home was heaven.  Summer at Mimi's was a haven.