This is me and my Grandma.
She is dying right now. As I write this.
Many grandkids think they are the favorite. I know I am. Everybody knows I am.
I will be speaking at her funeral in the coming weeks which means I have to write something to say. How on earth does one do that?
Swarovski crystal. Gucci handbags. Wigs. Opera. Her glossy black baby grand in the giant mauve living room she had added on to the front of her house. Lying under the piano while she played. She could play for hours without tiring. Never needed music, but knew every important song.
She could sew. She once sewed us matching nightgowns. They were pink with heavy cream lace around the neck and arms, and she embroidered a big fancy floral design on the front. We wore them when I came to spend the night. She would draw me a bath and bring me cream soda while I soaked.
I would sit at her Mother’s vanity and she would dress me in her drawers full of jewelry. She would put makeup on me. Merle Norman, Estee Lauder.
Once she took me to the Capitol Theater when she was singing with the Utah Opera. We walked onto the stage in the darkened theater. She got in trouble with security, but she couldn’t have cared less. She was showing her favorite granddaughter something she was passionate about.
She got into serious credit card debt and had to file for bankruptcy because she refused to accept that she couldn’t buy things. Buying things became her passion when everything began to fall away with age. She fancied herself to be Grizabella the glamour cat. Old Deuteronomy is on his way to take her to the Heavy Side Layer.
I began to mourn her years ago, but there’s always that last layer that doesn’t peel off until death is a reality. I am glad she is dying. Grampa died four years ago on Christmas Day, and will be anxiously awaiting her. She will be with her beloved Mother again. She goes to that fabled peaceful spot where her knees will work again, and her scarred hand won’t impede her reaching those octaves. One day I’ll get to meet her and see her the way she always wanted to be seen. Beautiful.
How does one write?