From the Inside Looking Out

Not too long ago, I glanced into a store window as I walked past and thought, “I know that old soul but who is she?  Oh, damn, she has on my good coat and scarf! What’s going on here?”  As I thought I’d step inside and say hello, I came face to face with a mirrored wall. Oh, nooooooo, is she me? HER?  Dang, woman, what’d you do with the rest of me? I mean, I know I’m no beauty at almost 77 years old, never was much of one, anyway. But I didn’t scare little kids and turn the milk sour.

I guess because I am  exceedingly, pleasingly plump :o), I am, perhaps, not as wrinkled as, say, one of those 150 pound scarecrows who never made an iron skillet of Lewis Grizzard’s  wonderfully rich cornbread  and slathered it with real butter. [Thanks to my SIL Diddy for that just about perfect recipe.]  Guess I’m thinking of cornbread because I made a huge pan for my Thanksgiving cornbread dressing. I always have to make enough cornbread for the dressing plus some to just pig out on.

When I was growing up, I had two redheaded girl cousins who lived in a rather fancy apartment, over on Peachtree Place. They were walking distance from our house and I spent lots of time with them, especially the one just older than I am. But I never got enough to eat in their apartment. They’d say things like come have lunch and we’ll go swimming at the club or to a movie at the Fox or the 10^th Street Theatre, or to the Art Theatre, all within walking distance. Their idea of lunch was HALF of a sandwich with lots of lettuce, and a glass of tea. On a good day, we might have one bought cookie!  Now I had just walked ten or twelve blocks to get there and I was hungry….. Well, rest of the story ……….. they were no skinnier  than I ----- they just suffered more :O) They were also the kind of swimmers who never got their hair wet , if that tells you something. They have kept their wrinkles pretty well filled out too.

I love flowers and this time of year they are mostly gone from our yard. In recent years, our Kroger store has a fairly good selection. My favorites are white daisies with yellow centers; they just look so fresh to me. Recently, I read a book by John Carter Cash about his mother, June Carter. In talking about his mother, he said ”She loved flowers so much, we should say in her obit, ‘in lieu of memorials, please send flowers.’” Obviously, I liked that!

For the most part, I am enjoying my old age. Oh, yes, I have my share of aches and pains and the frustration of being unable to physically do what I’d like or need to do. However, I am so blessed to be with Dee and the kids, plus Bruce comes often and helps us in lots of ways. From the time when we moved to Tennessee in the early 70’s, Bruce and Dee   had chores and helped me in the kitchen. I tried to gently give them jobs I thought they could do well, plus the fun part of cooking.

During Bruce’s most recent visit, I enjoyed watching as they got meals on the table and did the clean up afterwards, easily working together, talking, laughing. Dee and Bruce both love to cook and to eat, and they make some wonderful meals together. It’s so good to know I did something right and that my children are friends. Their dad helped around the house too as did my dad, about whom I often write, but he wasn’t a great cook.

That reminds me that some time after my dad died, when we were visiting my mother, she told me her vacuum cleaner was broken. Now, it was an old Electrolux that didn’t have much in it to break. It seemed to be made of concrete. When I turned it on, dust flew everywhere so I asked her when she’d empted it. Her totally blank look answered my question. She never vacuumed a floor until after Dad died and had never cleaned the dust out. Of course, it was good as new as soon as we cleaned it up. It was about thirty years old at that point. Both my dad and my husband liked to vacuum for some strange reason. Grandson Mike has that job, here, these days.

I suppose that what I am trying to say is that I pretty much do what I want to do, with exceptions, of course. I am “waited on” much more than I deserve but, don’t tell anyone, I enjoy it!  They do for me what I could do for myself --- but with a whole lot of effort and some fair amount of pain on my part. I’ve cared for other folks most of my adult life and have no regrets.

I’ve thought about other grandparents who don’t live with their grands. They appear to spoil them more or at least do more fun things with them. But Alesia was a very young 13 when she came home and we’ve had to pack so much learning into the years we’ve had her, not the least of which is that she is loved unconditionally. She seems, finally, to understand and is showing lovely maturity, these days.

Mike, in many ways, has been easier but he is still just 14 years old so time will tell. Both children have an innate sweetness that arrived with them. Even in times when Alesia has been slightly out of sorts with me, she scolds if I do something for myself that she considers her job. Yep, they take care of their granny--- and don’t I love it!!!   I used to say to my Tony, we are so lucky to have these good kids and he always said, luck has nothing to do with it!  I’m sure he’d say the same thing about these grands.

So, I’m happy to be the age I am. I really would not like to do it all over unless I knew what I know now. Just this afternoon, Alesia, while sitting in the middle of my bed with Coco asleep in her lap, said, “Granny, wouldn’t you like to have a boyfriend?” Be proud of me! Completely serious, I replied ”No Sweetie, 40 years was long enough. I’m too old to have to start and housebreak another one!”