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Listening to my grandmother always makes me feel like a little girl again. I sit there, face propped on my hands and concentrating on each and every detail of the woman I was named after, and listen as she describes her story for me. I can see it all. She was an athletic young girl at one time in her life. Do you know she kicked a soccer ball so hard she broke her leg? Of course, she didn't know it at the time.
Will it sound weird if I tell you that I had never before thought of her as being a YOUNG girl? She began this time by telling me the heaviest she'd ever weighed was when she was in high school. She quickly cleared up any possible misunderstanding by stating,
It was all muscle, mind you, and NOT fat." Then I could hear the silent yet triumphant "So there!" in her smug smile. Her subconscious shouted out feelings louder than her soft voice spoke them at times. She looked so proud of the fact that she'd been strong and athletic. She had alot to be proud of.
She not only has lived a long life, but a healthy one at that. I smiled and nodded to let her know I was still with her and paying rapt attention. Sometimes, I just couldn't speak. How do you find words to say anything when a complete sense of awe, respect, and utter curiosity overwhelms you? I don't want to take up one single second talking when I could be listening to her instead.
"I was a tough girl." She continued, "And I was into every sport. They didn't have swimming back then, or I'd have done that as well. I played hockey, soccer... " She paused. I knew she found a memory she wanted to replay. After a moment she began again, "Once I kicked the ball and BOY! I'll tell you, it shot right up here." She said emphatically and pointed to her lower neck. I wondered, what shot up her back? Pain? Did she stub her toe on the ball or something? Her scattered verbalized thoughts didn't always answer every one of my questions. So, I tried to put them together to form my own little mental movie of her past. I wanted to see what she saw, and watch it from her point of view. My mind began to join her in the past...
@~~
I look up. Here it comes. It's heading right at me. I can get it. *KICK* Oh yes! That was perfect. Ouch! What was that? Pain shot just shot up my leg, my back, and rested at the back of my head stabbing me and giving me a terrible headache. Uh oh, the coach is looking. Mary, you had better wipe that look of pain off your face or you'll be out of the game. She's pointing to me. What do I do? Pretend you don't see her. And then, I can't help but look at her. She's still pointing.
"Who me?" I ask. Yes, I thought so. Man, she saw my expression when I kicked that ball. "Are you alright, Mary?" she asks. "Yes, I'm fine!" I say as I turn to head back out on the field. "Go ahead and take a break for a minute." I stop dead in my tracks. Why does she have to be so observant anyway? There are dozens of kids out there for her to watch over, can't I slip thru the cracks just this once? I guess not. Who does she think she is anyway? My coach? *giggle* My leg does hurt, but I don't like to complain about pain to anyone. I can handle it...
@~~
My mind slips back to the present as I see her eyes gloss over remembering. "I didn't even know," she said. I wait for her to explain, but she's still busy playing the memory over in her head. "You didn't even know what , Grandma?" I watch as she mentally joins me in her kitchen once more. She smiles realizing she had been lost amidst her thoughts. "I didn't know until later when I fell down the stairs."
*I gasped* "You fell down stairs? Were you alright?" She looked at me in a bit of confusion. "No, I was not. I broke my leg." I didn't understand. What did falling down stairs have to do with soccer? "You broke your leg?" She nodded her head up and down slowly looking at me with an expression as if to ask... "Haven't you been listening?" I wish I could watch her visions, but I only have her words to go on. Her words aren't always spoken aloud and that creates a gap in the story that I try my best to fill in later with bits and pieces of details she throws in at the end like bacon bits garnishing her story salad.
Everything she says is a puzzle piece of her life. She loves to take it out and sort thru the peices. Only she knows what it looks like all put together. I'm just amazed when I can put more than a piece or two together that reveals yet another scene of it that hitherto lay obscurely hidden in the recesses of her mind. She continues, "I was walking down the stairs and it just happened. It just popped out, my leg decided that was a nice time. (She laughed softly to herself at her own joke) I broke many bones in my life." If the pieces I've fit aren't forced, I gather she broke her leg when she kicked the ball but didn't know until it gave out on her while she was heading down the stairs. Guesswork on her patchwork of faded memories, what a past time!
She scans the catalog of filed memories trying to decide which one to start playing this time. "A dental assistant once told me to open my mouth wide. I did. I opened it as far as I could. She didn't believe me. She went to open it wider. That's how I broke my jaw." Did the assistant get in trouble, I wondered. "I wonder what kept my Dad from telling the dentist what his assistant did to me. Maybe it was because the dentist was in love with his assistant."
Again she pauses, rolling thru that rolodex of memories. I wonder, will she share this one with me, or will she merely play it to herself staring out the window while I watch her in amazement. This time, she plays her mental movie of the past privately. I don't mind. And I won't interrupt it either by saying something, or requesting to to be included. I just sit and stare, trying to memorize every line of her face, trying to remember each little characteristic that makes being here with Grandma feel like I am emotionally home.
When I did have to head out to return the rental car and catch my flight, I hugged her for what seemed like a long time. I wanted to hug her so tight and hard to show her just how much I loved her. But, I couldn't. She seems so fragil now. I made it long one instead of a strong one. That way, maybe she'll feel it just the same. I didn't let my fingers break the connection as the hug slowly released. I held her shoulders, looked her deep in the eye, and told her I loved her.
"Well, *giggle* you are welcome here anytime as long as I'm here you know." What does she mean, "AS LONG AS I'M HERE?" She's not only a tough cookie, but a smart one as well. She could read my thoughts I think because she cleared it up immediately. "Your Uncle Dick has my name on a list at the senior home real close to his work. My name isn't up yet tho. As long as I'm here, *points to her mobile home* you are welcome to come and stay with me."
A HUGE grin crept across my face. Well, I don't like the idea of her in a home any more than she does I think, but it's a much more pleasant thought than the brief one that flashed across my mind a moment earlier- the thought of her not being with us at all, anywhere. "That's O.K. Grandma, I'll just stay at a hotel near the home then. I can't come all the way to California and not see you just because you don't have a place for me to stay." She got a mischevious grin on her face and replied, "You can always stay with your Uncle Dick." Yes, that I could. I smiled back and told her I'd tell everyone she said hello. She instructed me to be careful, and I said "Always."
My throat was all choked up by now and I could't say bye. I just waved and smiled warmly. I had to look down before she could see my tears. I paused a moment before pulling out, looked back up at the wonderful miracle God blessed me with in my Grandmother, and blew her a kiss. She giggled again. She does that alot. And now she just stood there waving.
I patted the bag next to me feeling the lump at the top. My finger lovingly traced the outline of the apple and the chocolate chip cookie she gave me before leaving. I smiled, yes, that's my Grandma! Now I was the one who was proud. As I pulled out onto the expressway I thought to myself (and concentrated really hard as if she would hear my thoughts in her mind that way)...Grandma, I love you!
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