My Grandma

I've been doing a lot of personal reflection lately, wondering how I came to be who and where I am today. I expect I am experiencing a mid life crisis, but in all my self analysis it occurred to me to consider the cloth I am cut from. I have said many times, I am not like other women/people though most smile and nod and think uhuh that's what everyone says. With that I thought I would like to share with you some stories involving the fabric from which I am cut.

 My Grandma is a truly unusual woman. I can honestly say that I have never met anyone in all my life even remotely like her. That probably accounts for why the majority of my family are unique individuals as well. Grandma has been playfully described as 4' tall x 4' wide. While that may sound unattractive, believe you me she carried it very well. She has always been a beautiful woman, perfect baby soft skin, gorgeous hair, and so full of personality that we think she literally had schizophrenia. I lost count as to how many times she's been married but last tally was either 5 or 6 and to date even in the nursing home she had a boyfriend… or two.

While she was undeniably beautiful, and charming enough to be promiscuous well into her 80's she is also mind numbingly insane. She used to do the damnedest things. For instance she was a kleptomaniac and a religious fanatic. She always had a small blue paperback prayer book a scapular and a dozen or so of what I would describe as little scapulars completely unsure what they are.

She loved to visit everyone unexpectedly. She would show up out of nowhere in the afternoon, and steal things. Sometimes a fork sometimes a small knickknack or photo, but she would always leave in its place some religious symbol, be it a mini-scapular or card. She would take nonsensical and completely random things she had no use for, well that any of us knew of.

When you went to her house you would inevitably come across one of your things. If you asked her about it she would blush and giggle and say God worked in mysterious ways. Well yes he is .. God HE can get away with that, however it wasn't very explanatory for her.

There is also no food on this earth she did not like. The family took turns taking her out for meals. She would take out her dentures and set them in a glass of water beside her plate. When she cleared her plate she would then pick it up and lick it clean. Yep, right there middle of the restaurant despite the guffaws and gasps from mortified onlookers.

She once explained that as a child she was told never to waste a thing and that she had best lick that plate clean which apparently she took quite literally. She would go to salad bars and request doggy bags. I think the most unusual of her habits was where she kept her belongings. Everything, scapular, prayer books, money, random forks, was wrapped up in either plastic bag or napkin and tucked into her bra.

She did that right up til the day she died. How she fits it all without ever looking misshapen is a mystery alas she managed it.

One afternoon my uncle Robert had taken her to Pondersa's breakfast buffet. Where she asked for a doggy bag and was refused. Not only refused but I think between the dentures in the glass, the plate licking and then the doggy bag request the concierge was about fed up and got a bit sarcastic with her. She was pretty well upset and made her last trip up to the bar.

Afterwards my uncle Robert who was about as embarrassed as a person could be from her adventures decided to take her for a ride to his brother Fran's house. They arrived where he had at the time a full house but welcomed them just the same. My uncle Fran had a dog named Sasha who was running circles around her, jumping on her and even peeing a little.

Everyone watched surprised that the normally quiet dog made such a big fuss over her assuming she must have some knack for animals. Sitting on the living room couch in front of all the guests she suddenly looked as though she had epiphany. "I know what she wants!" She proclaimed grinning like a madwoman.

She reached into her bra and produced, her typical prayer book, scapulars, a bag of rolled quarters, two spoons, a butter knife, prayer beads, bottled water, a happy meal toy for her grandbaby, moist towelettes, ziplock baggies, a stack of napkins and finally wrapped in one of those napkins a pair of Ponderosa's finest breakfast sausage. She held them up triumphantly and promptly fed them to the dog.

 It has on occasion been pondered if she carried her children when she was pregnant in her bra as opposed to the normal way.

Is it really any wonder that I have always been a bit different from most? While I don't carry around everything but the kitchen sink between my titties I am fairly certain I stand out just the same. I guess it could always be worse after all, but I think now that I really must be losing it because when thinking back I seem to understand what may have driven her at least to swipe the silverware. I would think to make sure she was never without something to stop and have a bite to eat with, after all her bra (of DOOM) could accommodate a breakfast in napkins. Heh she had no need for restaurant devices to bring home leftovers she had her very own boobie bags.