Pete

After lunch with my mother today, as she drove me back to the office, we began discussing my grandmother. It is that time of year when family members who don’t live close begin to descend upon Houston like tornados from the sky. First my Aunt Sharon on the 17th followed by her daughter on the 18th. The 21st brings my Aunt Laurie. On Christmas day my Aunt Sharon’s boyfriend Ed is coming. Not one of the above mentioned will be leaving at the same time and as you see arrivals are spread out. Enter my mother who has been offering to pick everyone up. My father flat out doesn’t offer and this is his family!

Here we are in the car after a perfectly pleasant lunch and my mother begins talking about how my grandmother is not going to be around forever. How my mother already sees her declining. Back up a damn minute. I spoke to my grandmother on Tuesday morning. She was getting ready for her weekly tennis match. Does this sound like an 83 year old who is “declining”?

My grandmother is my hero. I have always been close to her. Looked up to her. Admired everything she does. She is a painter. She plays tennis. She can cook (although you really should ask how long the meat has been in the freezer). She likes to sing, drink wine, garden, read, do the crossword puzzle and truly enjoy life. She took care of me when my parents were in the midst of their separation making crepes for my school home economics project.

I tried to stop my mother from saying these things. Quantifying my grandmother’s existence by predicting how many years she may or may not have left on this Earth. I didn’t want to hear about her decline because the second she senses we think that she is declining I think she won’t try as hard not to be the same person. The chink in her armor is there I just can’t see it right now.

Right now I want to hear about her kicking ass at tennis on Tuesdays. I want her to bring me spinach salad every special occasion. I want to see her finally discarding my grandfather’s home office to set up her painting studio. I want to watch her pick out her Christmas tree, strolling through the Scotch pines, grabbing a big handful of branches that she will stick her face right in the middle of to smell if it is fresh. This is my hero and if you never get to meet her I am sorry, you would truly enjoy the visit.