Quadessensual Grandma's Holiday Cards

Grandma's not doing too well these days. She misses Grandpa a lot. She also misses being able to read the New York Times everyday; not even the large-print edition works any more.

She tells us that the main reason she misses being able to read the paper is that doing that would be the basis for her daily harangue of all the rogues of the world, the people who "block progress out of greed or stupidity or, most commonly, both." When we are with her, we read the paper to her, and then she and we get to enjoy the harangue. But we get to be with her much too seldom, and there will not be many more chances.

Mainly, I think, 'cause she misses Grandpa too much. We can't help her much with that, 'cause we miss him so much too.

So today she calls to tell me the message she wants on her holiday cards, so I can get them together for her. She says, "Please put the poem in there, the one you read at Grandpa's memorial service. The one that made everyone clap while the tears were flowing down like mighty streams."

I'd never heard that imagery before, but Grandma has a lot of time to think about things and that is what she came up with.

At the service, I'd lost it about two-thirds way through the poem and had to struggle hard to finish, as I guess those in attendance had to as well as they listened to me try. Then, after what seemed like a long silence after I did finish, the crowd broke out in applause. Which, of course, caused me to lose it again. What can I say? We miss him so much.

"Okay, Grandma, whatever you want. I'll have the cards to you by Friday."

"Okay, Q, I look forward to seeing you."

Then she starts to cry, and so do I. And a minute later, I hear this diminutive clapping. It makes me stop crying.

"Oh, Grandma, I'm sorry for crying."

"Q, you know I understand. Just clap for the man. That's what he wants. That's what he deserves." So we clap together for a bit.

"Goodbye, Grandma. I love you. See you Friday."

So now I gotta' go and put those cards together, without staining them with tears.

I doubt there'll be a chance to do it again next year.

Copr. 1999
andrea the passing days
have not
me to be without
your guidance
your presence
warmly whispered words
always just
i needed them
what happened to them?
did they blow away
on the breeze
just as you did?
sean my grandmother used to pay me five dollars to pick the weeds that grew in her driveway. to little kids, five dollars meant financial paradise for months.

but she gave me more than money... grandmothers not only spoil their little loves but but comfort is just a hug away when with them.

grandmothers are warm inside and out. and i guess the warmth passes on when they pass away. i hope.
bane my grandmother loves going to the movies, especially those featuring actors she hates. why? i think it gives her chance to tell someone what she thinks of him/her without the possibility of offending that person. i love my grandma. 000210
carden i love my grandma and i wish i could have told her that just one last time. 010612
bzzmel i only have one grandma left 011207
effectively_hushed old skin
parchment on which is written a tale of many years
of laughter
of pain
love and frustration
painted with smiles
and misery
though always sunny for me
effectively_hushed I have none... they died befor they were old :(
so I imagine.
They're still with me :)
niska well... the one that's gone, wasn't really much of a grandma. but she's only human. (or, was)

the one that's left is turning into that one that's gone.

perhaps i was too young to understand - people get old - they're going to die.

When we were kids, she's take us to the mountains, and we'd have ice cream and play in the ocean.

Now she lets me know she thinks i'm fucking up my life. she's a renegade, this lady, but she's family and I love her very much.
minnesota_chris are you fucking up your life? 030303
niska haha no. but she's not controlling it, so she thinks so. i have to admit i was a bit of "rebel" in high school though...

you just have to know her to accept that she is completely backwards.

also, she would never actually say "fuck". By "messing" up my life, she means, I'm not yet married, I'm not bearing great-grandkids yet, and I'm chasing a career, instead of hunting down mr. right.

she's secretly proud of me, i'm sure, and is burning to tell me, but probably won't until she's on her deathbed - like the other one.
minnesota_chris are you in the career time of life then? No more school for you? 030312
niska yes. no more school. it's been a long time since i've had a summer off... *sigh* 030312
minnesota_chris I had to pick her up off the bathroom floor the other day, she can't stand up by herself anymore. I don't know what to do. 030819
megan mine's young
and she gets drunk and is very ditzy
she calls me "peaches" and "her little shit"
she has only one eye, because cancer took the other
she worked as a nurse, and grandpa cooks her meals for her and picked her up from work everyday because she's a scary driver with her blind side
we play euchre a lot together
and she likes stars
counterentity I miss her so much these days.
Even though I've never really been able to know her, and all our memories lie in the dusty closet of a childhood that seemed to end all too quickly, I miss just hearing the sound of her ever fainter voice over the waves of the telephone that seems to be so near yet so far. I wish I had long distance again. I wish I could hold those gentle hands in mine own again. I wish I could spend the quiet evenings again with her gentle voice telling me about the Monkey King.

I wish I could see her one last time.
megan grandma beck died last night
why this flood of words now? so much i should have thanked her for.
she does have the best seat in the house now i suppose, but why can't i be greedy and keep her on earth for just a little longer?
mon i'm sorry megan,
that it is my fault
or to say it is a fault at all

just sorry to hear that
hmm ahhh!
that should've been:

i'm sorry megan,
NOT that it is my fault
or to say it is a fault at all

just sorry to hear that
imaskitzo sure she wasn't my biological grandmother, she was actually my great aunt... she adopted my father at a young age and I never really knew his mother, so to me she was my grandma... it brings tears to my eyes knowing that I will never see or talk to her again... she was such a great lady 040323
no reason yeah...i was very okay yesterday...i'm not quite as okay today...

i just want some vast deserted landscape where i can scream as loud as my body will let me and no one will hear and come running.

i just want to expel it on my own. then i'll be ready to deal with people.
pete the african violet i recieved after you died which i gave to you on my last visit, only a few days before you died, has bloomed again for the first time since you died. 050902
what's it to you?
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