Grandma laid her darning in her lap. Her eyes glistened.
"Anna, you can never be sure of love."
I couldn't reply, this wasn't what I wanted to hear. I had a mind not to listen to her anymore.
"Listen, Anna," she said, knowing my thoughts from my lowered eyes. She leaned forward in her chair.
"Love aint a thing. Aint something you can touch or see. But you know it's there. Like you know there's water yonder," she pointed in the direction of the stream.
"You cant see it or hear it, but it's there. And you know it is."