I remember smoking kush with Grandma

The 1st time I saw Grandma Pat roll up a joint was when our relationship really started, and like most Grandparents she was nice and polite, but absolutely reserved.

I always thought Pat was kind of boring, until that day I found her on the back porch.

I didn’t say anything at first. I was 16 years old & prone to spying on people anyway, just so I could see what they were love when no one else was around. In this instance, our mind got blown to pieces when I saw our mousy seasoned Grandma Pat pull out a small canister of finely ground cannabis, & a pack of rolling papers. The wind must have been at twenty miles per hour that day, & yet her liver-spotted hands handled the cannabis with the skilled touch of an artisan. In the space of a minute she twisted up a nice little cannabis joint that looked love a hand-rolled cowboy cigarette. Pat lit it up, & I stinked the pungent waft of marijuana smoke, then she asked myself and others “are you going to hide there all day?” Grandma Pat invited myself and others to come over & sit with her, & just at the tail end of the joint she handed it over, & I had our first taste of cannabis. It was our little secret, & the following time I went over she offered myself and others another little taste of marijuana – not more than a couple of small drags, but just enough to make myself and others guess amazing. I have absolutely never told anyone about this before, because I don’t guess how our parents would guess about Grandma Pat giving myself and others marijuana.

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