Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Memories are like fiction...
Here is an attempt at fictional writing (sort of). Never mind this isn't fiction. I'll try again some other time. The again, some of the dialogue is probably fictional because I didn't write it down at the time, so therefore, should not be considered verbatim. Thanks Grandma, I know I screwed up that sentence. *LOL* and
yes, I know you can see that I'm finally, slowly lifting myself from my pity pot. *smooches toward heaven*
The tree was decorated with ancient ornaments, a fake cookie with a bite taken out of it, a ballerina that spun around and around, a little elf wearing red suspenders and pointy silver shoes and a bulb from the 1940's that read, "Merry Christmas".
"Put one on that bare branch", and I obliged covering every inch.
Christmas morning I came downstairs and opened my presents with glee and surprise. I knew what I was getting because I snooped but I'm a great actress. Grandma was sitting in her over-sized chair with a blue and green crocheted shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Holding up my unwrapped Mickey Mouse pillow, I looked over at her and smiled.
"Grandma, are you OK?" She was white with a grey tint and I knew something was wrong. She smiled lovingly at me and said, "I'm just a little cold."
My health teacher just taught us about heart attacks and the signs. Grandpa was in his reclining chair reading the newspaper and I told him, "you have to take grandma to the hospital something is not right".
They went (or...they had gone!?!) to the hospital and I went to my aunts for dinner and more truly surprising presents, I didn't know what they would be. The mood was somber and contemplative. In her psychological demeanor, Aunt Becky said something along the lines of, "well, her eating of a whole Saunders Carmel Cake in one sitting, finally caught up with her. She was trying to lose weight but swimming twice a week doesn't work when you eat like a hog". I went into the bathroom and vomited the honey-baked spiral cut ham, the green bean casserole and the plum pudding.
Grandma lived for another Christmas which she attended fashionably in her wig. We all knew time was the enemy and we had a truly lovely time with no family arguments or forced smiles. Looking back now, I realize that family arguments at Christmas are the worst. Not always arguments but more like snide remarks that jab the heart. Why did my family do this at Christmas? They didn't see each all year? But I remember one too many, with one sister crying or shouting or both. The Christmas magic helped me disappear into my Sunshine Family Home or my Disney Train Track that stopped at the Ferris wheel, giving Mickey and Minnie a ride. As I got older, it wasn't so easy to disappear into a bottle of sweet-pea-scented-lotion.
Grandma died on February 13th (the day before Valentines Day). I was a grown-up age of 18. I grew up fast but that story is a whole other cake walk, come walk with me, on the wild side, some other time.