This things that make me so happy in this life are so funny to me. Organized spices and powders. Making dinner for my family. A glass of wine. My damn dog, the most loyal being I've ever met. School. The epitome of safety, always warm, always filled with people who express love freely.
My grandmother is in her last days. It is impossible to think about her not being here, on this world, being the center of us. I was able to be with her last week for a few hours, just us. I watched her sleep, I fed her some, but the best thing I was able to do, is talk to her. She listened and it was natural. Not like talking to someone like they are a baby... or thinking that because they can't respond you need to scream at them and dumb everything you say down... I just talked to her. Talked about the place at the mall that you can go to, to get boba tea. How I hate the little jellies but still order it... tapioca seems the most popular because they are black jellies and look pretty in the tea.. how the straw is thick and you never know when one of those big black jellies is gonna come flying up and choke you at any moment. I talked to her about being a grandmother and trying to dig deep into my memory from when I was little to try and remember if she was as young as I feel as a new grandmother. She chuckled.
Her life, an amazing life. Her house, built by her and her husband, her summer house, same. They built their life from the ground up when it was the only way to do it. They figured things out, knew what would happen before it happened, had a butt load of kids, created something from nothing.
Here she is, trying to stay comfortable until she meets him again, almost 40 years of separation. I wonder what it would have been like had we been girlfriends rather than grandmother/granddaughter. Would we have sipped on old fashions rather than her serving me buttered bologna sandwiches while I lay on her couch on my days home sick from school? Would we have bowled together and I shared her trophies which would eventually find their way to dusty shelves in the basement? Would we have digressed about our husbands and life's trivial situations, and laughed until we cried and pee'd a little? I think so. I have those kinds of friendships.. they are the only kind I look forward too.
So she lays there, and I sigh. Will I lay there while my granddaughter talks to me? I fucking hope so. I really, really, fucking hope so. I feel like my one day of presence isn't enough but I put myself in her shoes and can only hope for a nice day with my sweet granddaughter talking to me about boba tea and being a grandma herself. I CANNOT even imagine it... but... I hope for it.
