Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?

I sit here at 1:00 am tearing through memories.

"I've come to collect the rent. I cannot pay the rent. Why can't you pay the rent? I haven't any money. I Shall pay the rent. CURSES. Saved"

That was what my Nana would do to make me laugh. Today while watching TLC, I saw a familiar face. I called to my mother, pausing the on demand show. I said "Do I know that woman?" And I do. She's one of my uncle's best friend and she's a published author. Her name is Jessica Pallingston, and she wrote a book entitled "Lipstick". So now, I want that book because apparently my grandmother contributed a lot to the making of it, and inside the book shes referred to as "Auntie Mary" or simply "Mary Blake".

The Klondike Bars.
Bedbugs.
A you're adorable...


Why do I get like this? Why? What possesses me? I want so badly for something to happen. Some magical slip up where suddenly I'm eight years old, its the middle of July. I'd lay out on the porch under the stars and watch the fireworks engulf the sky. I'd ask Nana what happens when we die. She told me that we all go back to the Lord. I asked if I would get in. She said there was no doubt in her mind.

Seven years later, I wonder if she could've been wrong.