My grandmother is absolutely amazing. She will be 89 in April. She lost most of her sight to glaucoma years ago. She is fiercely independent.
Nama has two borders who live in her house. One is a 6’4″ incredibly good looking European pro tennis player. The other is a thirty year old science nerd.
Nama does not discriminate.
Recently the European stud muffin complained that his mattress was uncomfortable. After a little investigation, Nama realized that his bed was the same one my mother used as a child. My mother is 54.
Nama is a wonderful landlord and quickly embarked on a mission to find the stud muffin a more comfortable lounge area for his room. After checking the ads, Nama enlisted me to help.
After a nice brunch at IHOP, our new favorite hang-out, we went to Mattress Warehouse. The promotion of the week was “Buy One Mattress, Get One Free.” This was a deal we could not pass up (and why the geeky grad student ended up with a new bed to replace his acceptable bed).
That is how we ended up with four mattresses (well, two mattresses and two box springs) on top of my mother’s minivan.
Being Nama’s fiercely independent granddaughter, I decided we did not need Mattress Warehouse to deliver the new beds. I could do it!
My husband Michael had other ideas. When he heard I was planning to do the heavy lifting, he left work and came straight to Nama’s house. (There is a rumor in the family that I have a bad back. So much for fierce independence.)
Four Diet Seven Ups later, the old beds were sealed up in plastic in the garage, waiting for donation, and the new beds were made up in their respective rooms.
“The Blind Leading the Lame” is by Pam’s niece, Gillian. “Nama” is Pam’s fiercely independent mom.
Twenty-one year old Gillian knows that Family Matters.
Tags: family · gillian · grandmother1 Comment
1 response so far ↓
Yeah, family matters. Here’s one of my favorite family stories:
A few years ago I encouraged the kids to help clean the house–it makes life easier for everyone. Shortly after cleaning boot camp, one of my kids’ friends came over with a new puppy, which he set down in our entry way. (I was out that day.) Promptly, the pup ran to the nearby carpet and did his number (2). Here’s what I imagine the Pup said to itself: “Oh! A carpet! And I thought I only had one to use!”
My son, having been recently trained to clean, said, “I’ll get out the cleaner! OK, Dad?” (Unknown to him: the disinfectant he chose had bleach in it)
“Sure!” Dad says, not checking, just happy for help.
Now I have a dinner-plate sized slightly lighter (OK, a lot lighter) mark on the living room carpet.
Moral of the story: Be careful what you wish for . . .