She said she’d never make it to 90 but she did
Sad news. I got a call last night from my Mother. It seems that my Gram B (Dad’s Mom) has passed away. I grew up being neighbors with her all my life until I went to college making frequent trips back to see my folks as well as her. I will aways remember when she started getting dementia. It was when I was 26 years old and I walked into her house and said “hey Gram B, thought I’d drop in and see you!” and she greeted me at the door and gave me a huge and pulled on my red ringlets and said “hi honey, I don’t think I know you, are you new in town?” … “No Grandma, it’s Jenny, your granddaughter, I lived right next door, remember?” .. I’m not quite sure she remembered but she acted like she did and invited me in. We had the same chat about 15 times before I told her I had to go. She’d forgotten who I was by then again and said “bring your parents next time so I can meet them!” with a smile on her face.
I’ll never forget her keyring which taught me my first curse word. It was a big red plastic one that said “BITCH” engraved on it. Whenever I would ask her what it meant she just said it was a female dog. She never had dogs so I could never figure it out, at least until I was older.
She was one of those woman who told odd stories. Once she took me up to Estas Park in the Rocky Mountains. Every high cliff we went by she would tell me that that’s where the Indians used to jump off to commit suicide. In my young mind I knew that wasn’t true, but whenever I see cliffs my eyes still visualize Native Americans jumping off those cliffs. I always wondered who cleaned up the bones afterwords.
Anyway, as eccentric as you were Gram B (which is actually on her license plate on her car she hasn’t driven in 12 years), I loved you. I hope you come back as a dog so you can learn how to laugh and love.
