My Grandmother: Weird Sentimental

It’s weird what will suddenly remind you someone.

When I was a kid, my grandmother didn’t bake cookies. She didn’t knit. She didn’t kiss boo boos. She didn’t give me sweaters at Christmas that had to wear just because she bought them. My grandmother could not have been in a Hallmark movie. My grandmother wasn’t even that good of a cook.

I touched briefly on my grandmother back on her birthday; the highlight of that being that she was a robot from outer space sent here to take me away from my mother. She was a trip. Why she decided that I needed to be wary of her, I dunno, but in our weird little dysfunctional way, we were very happy.

I remember less about her than I like to admit.

  • She always drank that Folgers instant coffee, that was like coffee crystal granule things
    • She always took it with milk. Not cream. Not sugar.
  • She was fat
    • She loved pecan pie
    • She loved fried chicken
      • Coincidentally the only thing she could really cook
      • She’d eat pretty much fried anything
      • She was the kind of person to clean a bone
        • Then gnaw on it
        • Then crack it open and suck the marrow out
          • It was as gross as it sounds
  • She was from Mobile, AL
  • She loved lighthouses
  • She had an old sewing machine in her bedroom, but I never saw her use it
    • Mom said she was good at sewing, and even taught my mom to sew
    • Her bedroom was always cluttered up and jumbled
    • I think she was a little bit hoarder, probably caused by late-life depression
      • This strolls casually through my family, getting to know them all personally and intimately
        • Remind me to tell you about my uncle someday
  • She lived in a trailer
  • She chain smoked until my mom made her quit when she got emphysema
    • We were convinced that she was going to blow herself up, trying to smoke while on oxygen
  • She had these gnarled up fingers from arthritis
    • And these long ass nails she’d dig into your arm if you disagreed with her

Yes. My grandmother was a trip. Irregular. I thought she was narcoleptic for like my whole life, because she would fall asleep in the middle of conversations, and TV shows, and anything. Turns out, when I was a teenager, my mom figured out they had some of her meds up WAY TOO HIGH and once that got adjusted she was conscious. All the time. It was weird.

Anyways, what reminded me of Lois today, was this.

When I was a kid, Lois had a lamp. It was a scene of a geisha, and one day we made her a caged bird. I didn’t know, until that day, that my grandma was talented. She made this tiny bird, in a cage made of toothpicks. Very delicate work. Turns out that when my mom was a kid, Lois helped her make dollhouse things all the time. They couldn’t buy them, so Lois made them. It was cute.

I miss my grandma. We were talking about her yesterday, because someone was talking about cancer. Cancer is another thing that strolls casually through my family, infecting us all. Sad, really.

Anyways… I miss my grandmother. She was cold, little mean, cackled like a witch… and I feel like I emulate her quite nicely. I hope she would enjoy the person I’ve grown up to be.

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