She said, after I mentioned that I was scared my father would die before he got a transplant and after a few minutes, that she just hopes we have joy and happiness in our lives. That we find joy every day. I asked her if she had. She thought about it for a few minutes.
She told me that she had. She had made alot of mistakes, and she wishes she hadn’t. She wishes that when you are younger you know what you do once you’re older, because you need it when you’re younger. I commented that the only way you know it once you’re older is because you learned from those very mistakes. She agreed, but wished there was a different way to learn. She talked about wishing she had made some different choices and decisions. We talked about the amazing people and friends she has in life despite her “mistakes”.
I asked her what her favorite memory is. “Of you?”. No, favorite all time memory, although I will ask her one day what her favorite memory of me is. It has to be soon. She thinks. There’s alot to think about, she’s been alive for 80 years. She tells me that she enjoyed spending time in Rockport, she loved those summers. She mentions her best friend, who passed away a year or two ago.
“I was so honored she chose me as her friend. I never expected it from someone like her.”
“Why not?”
“Because we all looked up to her. She was who we went to for advice. She’d listen to anything you had to tell her, and keep your secrets. She gave good advice, scriptural advice. I was also so surprised she’d want someone like me as a friend.”
“I would think she’d be honored to have you as a friend.”
“I was honored to have her.”
This surprises me. My grandmother is the best, most Godly person I know. She’s a person who truly follows what she believes, and there’s no hypocrisy in it. Maybe it took her a lifetime to come to that, I don’t really know. But I know who she is now, and she’s one of the best people I know. One of my favorites.
***
I ask what her favorite memory of my mother is. She thinks. My mother pipes up from the backseat, “I know my favorite memory of mom.” I ask what it is. She says, “well, there was this time I had to type a paper for school…. did I tell you this already?” I tell her she did, but I want to hear it again. I love hearing their memories, I want to soak them up and never forget them. My mom tells me about how she procrastinated on a paper at school, and was tired and frustrated with the typewriter. My grandma came in and took the paper and typed it up for her. In about 15 minutes. That’s her favorite memory- of a mother being there for her daughter. Without reproach. Just… being there.
They go back and forth sharing memories. “Remember when Shannon first walked?” “I remember the time I told Shannon not to wake her brother. She did, and then undressed him. I spanked her for that. When Sue and Pete came to pick the kids up, Shannon wouldn’t speak to me!” “Remember when Ellie walked, at our engagement party?”
***
She is alluding to the regrets she has in parenting. We’ve though for a while that she may have some, her sons don’t always treat her as they should. They’ve made mistakes too, who among us hasn’t? She’s telling me that there weren’t all those books to teach you about parenting back when she was parenting. I counter that the books all give conflicting information anyway, so how far does that really get today’s parents anyway?
***
We’re at dinner. She’s told me this story before, but it’s one of my favorites. My friend’s husband is applying to Juliard, and she mentions that she dated a man who went to Juliard. She wonders what happened to him. I remind her that she told me, and ask her some questions. I want to get to the best part. “He was before Gramps, right?” Yes. “You left him for Gramps, huh?” Yes, something like that. “What did he play, again?” Clarinet and saxophone. “I’ve always heard that saxophone players make good kissers.” She laughs, in that way she does. She says with a smile, “He WAS a good kisser, he was a very good kisser!” and laughs again. My mother looks at us with a shocked face.
I tell my mom, “These are the kind of conversations we have. What can I say?” She tells me she had similar ones with her grandmother.
***
When they are talking about memories, she tells another one about my sister (there are alot about her. I’m a teeny bit jealous.) She talks about how my mom used to bring my brother and sister by. She remembers my sister sitting on the toilet watching her put makeup on while she got ready for work. She’d always put a little on my sister while she watched.
When I was little, I used to sit on the toilet and watch my sister put makeup on. She’d always put a little on me.
When I babysit my niece, that is- my sister’s daughter, she sits on the toilet and watches me put makeup on. I always put a little on her.
***
