The crappy stuff: My family visited my grandma (King V's mom) a few days ago. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure she didn't recognize any of us. She'd turn and look at me and give me a nice, polite smile, but there was no recognition on her face. Mack Daddy Smooth was his charming self. He sat by GV and helped her open her present (a pink nightgown) and he told her how pretty she was going to look in it. When we first walked in, Gma saw us and said she wanted to go home. She's lived in retirement communities for the past six years, ever since she and my Gpa sold their house and downsized. King V gently explained that she lived there now. A few minutes later, she asked again to go home. Sigh.
The stuff that made the crappy stuff easier to bear: Another resident of the home drifted over to the couch and chairs where we were all sitting and just hung out with us. Like stood next to the couch where MDS was sitting and didn't say anything. She then started whispering in Mack Daddy's ear and I got so tickled that I had to look away. According to MDS, the stranger was whistling in his ear. She probably thought he was cute and came over to flirt. The community staff led her away a couple times but she'd just wander back over. I know MDS was secretly pleased. You know. Because he's down with the geriatric shorties.
The slightly-uncomfortable stuff: Spending a couple hours with my relatives. Actually, it wasn't bad at all. I even got a belated birthday card from my other Aunt V and we promised to meet for lunch soon. We all ate soup and bread and chatted and it was pleasant, albeit weird. Holiday gatherings generally take place on weekends, so it was odd to be out at a party on a Wednesday night. Well. It wasn't really a party party. More of a soiree intime. Intime soiree? Crap. Can't remember the exact way Frasier said it during last night's dinner party episode. Anyhoo, don't mind me while I type to myself.
The tangential stuff: Well, we're leaving ... can I have my jacket ...blah blah blah so good to see you too and let's do lunch ?where's my coat? blah blah blah the things we say to one another in parting that will eventually come true but probably not anytime soon and can I please have my coat so I can go home and take off my work clothes that I've now been wearing for 12 hours ohmygoddess why didn't I bring jeans and tennies to wear and Mack Daddy, if you don't get in the car right NOW, I'm leaving you here and you can ride home with Queen S and King V and where is my flippin' coat? Did you sell it?! and I just want to get the hell out of dodge and go home and take a shower and Mack Daddy, go hotwire the car while I find pliers and start pulling out fingernails if my coat isn't produced in about a minute and I.just.want.to.go.home and clean up and do a load of laundry and put on a T-shirt and hang out with the cats and probably stay up too late and try not to think about MDS leaving tomorrow because it makes me sad and YES! thank the Goddess you found my coat! Mwah mwah, kiss kiss, I love you dearly and yes, see you soon for coffee lunch brunch dinner your neighbor's bat mitzvah high tea breakfast some Oreos in front of the fireplace.
The glad-my-uncle-stocks-a-full-bar-at-all-times stuff: Rum + Diet Coke. Ahhhh.
1 comment:
Sorry to barrage you with comments, but I just discovered you! I feel your pain - my grandma frequently accuses people of stealing, because she can't remember where she put things. It's sometimes funny, sometimes sad. My favorite - last Christmas she misplaced her coat. So she whispers to my mother (conspiratorially) "Joan, I think Agnes stole my coat. You know, I really didn't think she was like that. I thought we raised you girls better." It's funny, but it's painful.
And yes, I have an aunt named Agnes.
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