Friday, September 25, 2009


My mother and I went out to lunch on Wednesday, eating at an outdoor venue. While we were there we saw a man walking his little granddaughter around, keeping her occupied while the rest of their group ate lunch. It was a sweet picture, her holding tightly to his one large finger. He so tall, she so small. Her leading him around to see things: a tree, the flowers, the shiny motorcycle...

Just to fill you in, dear readers, my Mother's own mother died years before I was born.

I commented to my Mom that I could only remember one of my grandparents. She gave me a confused stare. I said that I could not remember by grandfathers, as they had died when I was very young. I only remember my one grandmother.
She asked blankly "who?"
My grandmother, my father's mother.

She asked blankly "who?"
My father's mother.

"Are you talking about me?"
No, MY grandmother.

"Who are you talking about?"
Your mother-in-law.

She still could not make the connection. Then she started to get angry. "Stop playing games with me." I was surprised that she couldn't recall this person from the past. Was it that she couldn't make the connection: me to Dad to his mother, or what? She can recite all the members of her college sorority, but she can't tell me who drove her to church last Sunday.
"L__" I said.
"Oh, her." Mom groaned.

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