10/22/22

Sunday is a day of rest and football so excuse my absence yesterday. Today I will post twice. The second post will be about my darling baby kangaroo turning 11 months old. The first, this one, will be about my grandmother.

Today would have been my grandma's 90th birthday. She passed away too young, but that happens to the good ones huh? I can't imagine what her statuesque frame would look like at 90, would she be frail? Would she have gotten more snarky? Or less? Would her and my mom still tap dance in the kitchen? Would she be in a retirement home? Or still sitting at the end of her dining room table smoking her cigarettes? Would she still put cherries on her ham at the holidays? Would my grandfather have fought a little longer just to be with her? Would we still all get together for holidays at her place? Would less time fall between seeing my cousins? Would we be best friends like my mom says we would?

That is the thing I wonder about most. My mom is always telling me how much we would've liked each other, I was twelve when she passed away, and I loved her to bits. But, according to my mom, she would've loved the adult me and me her. Kindred spirits. Which is interesting really, because my mom is adopted, so genetically we have nothing in common. And yet, from the time I can remember I felt so attached to her as a spirit. And after she passed away I felt an even stronger connection. She visits often in dreams, always a visit too, it is always that she has died and has come to just hang out for a bit. So yeah. I guess I just miss her. I miss the relationship we could have had. I don't feel sentimental towards her missing my graduation, or wedding, or even the birth of my child. I am sure my mom misses her more for those things than I do. I selfishly miss her, I miss her all for myself. I miss the friendship we would have had.

Ok, but honestly, it would have been pretty cool for her to meet baby girl. Though, she wouldn't have been too stoked on her big blue eyes. Apparently, my grandmother had a thing for brown eyed girls...

A haiku for my grandmother

I remember things

Like the sound of your laughter

And your bright red coat.

Sorry mom, if I made you cry again. I promise to be funnier next post. Maybe. I'm not sure when things got so heavy over here at Casairlanda. :)