When I was a little girl our family including your grammy would walk in the woods and would climb the moutain behind our house, but there were not very many blueberry bushes. Everyone who lives in the North East relish the bluberry season. But when my mother , your dad’s grammy, moved to Elk Mountain blueberries became a ritual for everyone who visited during Blue Berry Season. Your great cousins Andrew and Kate would fly from San Jose, California to Washington,DC to begin their summer vacation. They would stay with your Grammy for a week and then they would go with Ruben (your dad) and uncle Lucas and Aunt Mara for a summer visit to your Great Gammy’s house at Elk Mountain.
Andrew and Kate are my children and every year they looked forward to their visit to Elk mountain. Grammy would make terrific breakfasts, play games, find interesting art projects, but most of all there would always be a trip to Blue Berry Hill to pick blue berries. Home would come pails filled with blueberries. Some were for pancakes, pies, cookies and anything Grammy would think of that all the kids would like. Andrew ( my son) loved Blue Berry picking although Grammy said for every blueberry in the pail there were four in his mouth. . Each year when Kate and Andrew flew to the East Coast they looked forward to the special fun with Gramps and Grammy. But, Andrew so loved the adventure to come at Blue Berry Hill.
One year when everyone trudged up and down the hills filled with blueberry bushes Grammy asked Andrew, ” Do you like Blue Berry Hill?”
“Oh no Grammy this isn’t Blue Berry Hill.”
“It isn’t?” wondering why he would say that.
“Oh no Grammy this is Blue Berry Heaven!”
Ever after we all call it Blue Berry Heaven. Did I mention that Andrew’s face was blue from the stains of all the blue berries he ate ?. . And to this day he still remembers Blue Berry Heaven. Pretty soon his little girl will make a trip to Blue Berrry Heaven. I hope one day you will get to go too.