Saturday, March 20, 2010
It's a girl!
My gram is sick. She's ninety three, so it's to be expected. I have time to spend with the feisty lady all through this spring and summer, so it's worked out beautifully. Sort of.
I spent a large portion of my day yesterday at different doctors offices with her. My mom came too. We joked at lot at the old lady's expense and made the doctors laugh, which gave them more incentive to spend an extra moment or two examining my gram. I know people, it's my job.
She's being brave. She has tumors in her mouth and a weak valve in her heart. She's at the end of this whole adventure and all she's wondering is "What's going to get me?" It can't be fun.
And she's still mean. And difficult. And incredibly funny.
At one point yesterday, I looked at her, prone on an examination table. Her hair perfect (she went to the hairdressers first) her clothes perfectly matched, her nails perfect, her high heels dangling off still dainty ankles. And I looked at myself. Jeans borrowed from my sixteen year old WAY too low cut for anyone my age. A long scarf, a wrinkled white mens shirt. Jagged, chipped nails.
What happened to me? When did I decide to be a tomboy forever?
Later, after everyone was safe at home, I escaped my life for a few hours and went to a place where no one speaks English but they seem to know exactly what I want.
I got my nails done, and my toes too. A sparkly mauve, because that's her favorite nail color, my gram.
I did it for her. Even though I know that when I see her she'll say, "Oh, honey. They're painted too dark. I always go a shade lighter, and by the way, have you put on weight?"
And I'll say, "Since yesterday, gram? Really?"
*For those of you who regularly read my blog, notice under my thumb on the left of the photo you can see we found a place to hang Tessy's rainbow!*