I have no rhyme or reason to this, I just feel like talking about Grandma today. I don't know, man. Where do I even begin? This lady, she would wear a mink coat in the dead of summer, because she always wanted one. When she finally got it, she never took it off, not even for ninety degree weather. That's my Grandma.
I think if there ever were real gentlemen and ladies, my Gram would be the epitome of a lady. Well, sometimes. Other times, she might have been a hellion. But when she wasn't raising hell (always for a good cause, I might add) she was a saint. She had the best shoes. I always did envy her shoes. I would try them on and prance around in them until she caught me and made me take them off. She had strappy high heels. Those were great. She had tons of costume jewelry. Sometimes, she would let us get in her jewelry boxes to try them on.
Grandma had treasures in her house. They were treasures to me, anyway. The garden was the best. I would sneak out there to inspect the cherry tomatoes. If they were ripe, I would pick and eat them right off the vines. There was no prewashing in those days. There could have been bug poop on there for all I know, but if it was ripe I totally ate it anyway. I would come in the house and she would ask me, "Where did all my cherry tomatoes go? I know I saw some ripe ones on there today, but when I went out there, they were gone. Did you eat those cherry tomatoes, Ari?"
"No, I did not. Maybe there's a thief."
Somehow, she always caught me. It was only revealed to me later that I had the juice and seeds around my mouth. You don't think to cover your tracks when you're a kid.
She also had a picture of Jesus up above the china cabinet. She would go and stand before it everyday. So I figured, it must be valuable for her to stare at it so. Sometimes, she would whisper. I found that very strange, at first. Then I realized that the painting was magic. Maybe if I listened hard enough, the painting would talk back. I never did hear it talk back, but I always did watch myself around that painting, because you never know. Those eyes were watching.
She also had a deep freezer. In this freezer was a stash of popsicles. Always replenished, we never ran out. It might have had something to do with that Jesus painting. The painting was on the other side of the wall from the freezer. I'm just saying. This was tricky, though. This wasn't a normal freezer. I could open it fine, but it was deep. That meant that I had to brace my stomach on the ledge while I precariously tilted forward to reach down for a popsicle. If I lost my balance, I fell in the freezer. For some reason, Gram thought it hilarious to find me with my legs sticking out the door. Grandma had a way of laughing that let you know she was laughing AT you, not with you. I always felt dumb when I fell in the freezer.
For some reason, Grampa wanted a camper. So he bought one and set it up outside in the driveway. Makes no sense to me, now. It made perfect sense back then. I was forever playing in that thing. One time, I was talking to Gram, who had come outside to enjoy the day by sitting in the camper (weird!!). I backed out with the intention to go play, but I was still facing Grandma, so I ended up falling backwards out of it. I never saw the woman laugh so hard in her life. "You bounced out like one of them basketballs!" Thanks Grandma. That was a blow to the ego. I remember storming away angrily, because she had laughed. I regret that now. Had I seen myself, chances are that I would have laughed, too.
What I regret the most was the time I was about six or seven. I had just learned how to make a star. So I set about making one on anything I could find. I wrote a star in her Bible. She found it and asked who had done that. I lied and said I didn't know. I felt awful about it afterwards. I never did tell her. I think she knew, obviously, no one else was childish enough to do that. Still, I think about that and to this day, I feel so ashamed.
After all is said and done, I loved that woman. I miss her a lot. I tell Kade stories about her, because she died before he was born. He didn't get to meet her, but he seems to like the stories. Those are the memories I cherish. On days like this, when I'm not bogged down by distractions, I like to think back and remember.