(We are visiting my dad’s mother on a vacation. My little sister and I go with my dad. It was only a couple years ago that she came out to us as MTF and started her beautiful transition. Now, mind you, my grandmother used to favor her when we were young when she was a boy. This is because she is quite sexist and believes that a woman’s job is to stay home, cook and clean, and look pretty. But her views have changed for the worse. I am now 22, and she is 19.)

Grandma: *confiding in me* “You know, I don’t know what to get [Sister] anymore for gifts.”

Me: “Well, I dunno. Maybe [Sister] would like gift cards to her stores, or some makeup?”

Grandma: “No! No! He isn’t a [gay slur]! He’s going to be the man of the house and it is going to stay that way!”

Me: “Well, I don’t know. But clearly, she’s been sitting on this part of herself for a while. Just get her some lipstick.” *already getting aggravated*

Grandma: “No! She needs a toolbox! A girlfriend, even! Who is going to take over the family when your father is gone?!”

Me: “Well, there’s me, [Younger Sister], [Older Sister], so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Grandma: “Are you kidding?! Ladies like you and [Older Sister] are not meant to deal with finances like a house. You’ll be finding husbands soon, anyway; maybe one of them can take over the family.”

Me: “What? Are you f****** kidding me?”

Grandma: “Ah! Don’t use that language with me! None of this would be a problem if [Sister] didn’t decide to be a [trans slur]!”

(As if on cue, my sister and my dad come into the room, hearing the tirade his mother is spewing again. Poor [Sister] looks pale and mortified from the comment.)

Dad: *firmly* “Mom, don’t use that kind of language, please. [Sister] is right here and I don’t like her dealing with that.”

Grandma: “Don’t you butt into our conversation! It’s none of your business!”

Dad: “Well, it is my business if it has anything to do with any of my beautiful daughters. I think you need to go cool off.”

(She’s known for being quite crazy when she gets mad like this, so the next steps are very necessary when she doesn’t comply.)

Dad: “Okay, so, we are going to pack up early and leave.”

Me: “Okay? Did she finally stop running her mouth?”

Dad: “No, and that’s why we’re leaving. I’m not subjecting [Sister] to this for an entire week. We can go hang out with [Other Family we know around here].”

(After that, we left and didn’t have to deal with her again for the rest of the trip!)

My grandmother passed away. My family and I cleaned out her home, donating some goods, throwing away some, and keeping some. Among those items kept was a tablet. My aunt gave me the password, and it was decided I would keep it.

The first time I turned on the tablet, a few weeks after she passed, I decided to snoop through what pictures, music, games, and other apps my grandmother had on there. I know, invasion of privacy and all, but inquiring minds wanted to know. I then went over to her Facebook and also opened the Facebook Messenger app. It turns out she had never opened or used the app before, and as those of us who use the app know, the first time you open the app, it sends a notification to your friends letting them know you’re now on the service, and they can contact you there. It also showed her as “online.” Not two minutes later, I — or rather, my grandmother — receive a message from my sister.

“Uhh… Nini? Hello?”

I quickly changed the status to offline, closed the app, and shut down the tablet. I haven’t touched it since. I then sent a text to my sister letting her know that no, her dead grandmother was not using Facebook in Heaven.

When I was about three, my aunt and her then-boyfriend had just started dating. He was a notorious litterer and was always dropping garbage everywhere. My aunt would get onto him about it, but he wouldn’t stop.

One day, they took me to a local aquarium which I went to a lot, to give my parents a break.

This aquarium had what we called the Trash Tank in the lobby — basically a bunch of tires, plastic, and assorted garbage in an empty tank that simulated a river to tell people not to throw trash in the local river.

For some reason, tiny me was obsessed with this tank, and I would always spend as long as I could, playing I Spy, looking for weird things, etc.

When we passed the tank, I ran to it and began pointing out things in it and talking about not “being a litterbug” and always throwing your trash away. My aunt’s boyfriend was looking around awkwardly.

My aunt later told me that my now-uncle suddenly stopped littering after that day. I wonder why…

(I’m visiting my grandparents at the end of finals week in the spring of 2006. It’s a hot late-spring day and my grandparents have windows open and multiple fans going. My grandmother is fanning herself and remarking on how hot it’s getting as the season progresses. My dad has told me stories about growing up, so I know a few things about his childhood home from the 60s. They moved to their current house a few years ago after it was built.)

Me: “You guys had this house built; why didn’t you have them put in an air conditioning system?”

Grandmother: “We had one of those in the house in Arizona and I didn’t like it because it smelled funny.”

Me: “Grandma… you moved out of Arizona… forty-two years ago. Don’t you think that ACs might have changed a bit?”

Grandmother: “I don’t know, I just didn’t want one.” *as she walks down the hall*

(I remember something else my dad told me about his house and call out to her while grinning.)

Me: “You didn’t have an air conditioner! You had an old swamp cooler. Of course, it smelled funny; it was full of old stagnant water!”

(My older brother decides we are going to watch a movie one afternoon, and my mom shouts down the hall to invite my younger brother.)

Mom: “We’re getting ready to watch a Star Trek movie, if you want to join.”

Younger Brother: “Which one?”

Me: *walking past his room* “The one where The Doctor takes the One Ring to the planet Hoth because Professor Xavier told him to.”

Younger Brother: “Which one is that? Can’t you give me the title, instead?”