“Wait! Don’t forget your blueberries and green beans!” She rushed back in the house to grab the two little plastic bags, filled with the first fruits of her Spring garden and tied off with twist ties. I waited outside, gathering the paper scraps of seed packets we’d just planted together and Charlie’s play yard stretched across the lawn nearby. Florida’s first April breeze lifted my hair off the back of my neck and, as I watched it blow through the surrounding trees, I breathed in deep that old, familiar comfort of my Aunt Debbie’s home.  I’ve always loved it at my aunt’s house. It’s slower there. Simpler. Filled with a…