A Twinkle In Her Eye
The other night I had a dream about my Granny. I was sitting in Grandpa’s chair and turned my head to the left, and there she was, standing, looking at us, where she usually sat. We all wondered how she’d gotten there, as she was supposed to be in the nursing home, not in good shape.
At that point in the dream, I woke up, saying, “That can’t be right; she’s dead.” Then I woke up for real.
My grandmother lived a very good, full, long life until the last 5 or 6 months. She’d seen a lot of the world, she’d spent time with her grandchildren (that’s an understatement), she’d live her life to the fullest. So it was hard that last 5 or 6 months to see her not living life — though I wasn’t seeing it, I was only hearing about it since I was on the other end of the US.
Which is why this entire thing still feels like some weird dream — it doesn’t feel real. She’s not gone, I’m just 3,000 miles away.
What’s funny is now when I try to remember all of the things we’ve done together over the years, there’s only one moment that really sticks out in my head. I was in college, home for the summer. Granny was always telling me how proud she was of me, but this time was different.
We were walking out of the living room, where Grandpa was watching the news. She told me, “I’m so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. You didn’t get into those things other kids do like drugs and sex…”
What was funny was the way she said sex. She lowered her voice, to almost a whisper, and had a little smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. She said it like it was the most taboo word (and I was shocked to hear her say it, so maybe it was).
Then we both just giggled like a couple of schoolgirls, and I said, “Thank you Granny” as I gave her a hug.
I’m not sure why that is the one memory, out of all my memories of her, that overpowers them all. But I did like seeing that little twinkle in her eye — she’d get it everytime she’d make a sly remark that she shouldn’t and that was so atypical of her.
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