In some quirk of fate, almost every store I have frequented within a two-week period has had some new or hard-to-find candy that my grandsons would love. As you can imagine, the candy stash at my house started to pile up in that two weeks.
They spent today and tonight with us and met all my conditions to be permitted a piece of the candy. The older brother spread it out for them to choose from, looked at the very large collection, and said, “You did good, Grandma.”
(My grandparents make plans sometime in February to come and visit me the first week of October. My grandmother calls in June.)
Grandmother: “I need to speak with you about something really important, [My Name].”
Me: “All right. What is it?”
Grandmother: “Well, do you know [Old Friend of Hers]?”
Me: “Yes, what about her?”
Grandmother: “Well… She called and said she wanted to visit us. Of course I said yes, so she suggested a date.”
Me: “Okay…”
Grandmother: “She suggested coming in the first week of October.”
Me: “Okay…”
Grandmother: “And it would have been rude if I’d told her she couldn’t come! I had to accept the date. You don’t mind, right?”
Me: *knowing I have no choice* “Of course not. Would you like to reschedule?”
Grandmother: “Yes! We’ll come the second week of October. I’m so glad you understand.”
Me: “Sure…”
(We ended the call. I wasn’t really upset that the date changed, but more about her idea of what’s rude. She’s always throwing a temper tantrum when she thinks I’m being rude, so I guess she thinks everyone is just like her.)
Last December, my great-grandma passed away after a long time in a nursing home in poor health. We knew that she would pass soon, but my family was still obviously very sad. My seven-year-old brother took it pretty hard, so my other two brothers and I tried to comfort him as best we could.
The time came for the funeral, which we had to explain a bit to my brother. It was a Catholic one, so it was held in a church and lasted a couple hours. I helped give the Eucharist, and my brothers and I helped carry the Gifts to the altar, all the while trying to convince my youngest brother that Great-Grandma wasn’t going to come back to life like you do in Minecraft. As you can imagine, we were pretty emotionally spent, and my mother and grandma were crying numerous times.
At the end of the funeral, four of the adult male family members came to help carry the coffin to the hearse. Mom was crying and holding Grandma, my aunt and uncle were holding back tears, and my cousins, siblings, and I watched quietly. Suddenly, my youngest brother walks towards the coffin and “helps” carry the coffin to the hearse, which wasn’t supposed to happen. My mother was shocked, but didn’t stop him in time before they were out the door.
Imagine being there, a ring of family members in solemn silence, suddenly laughing as their loved one is carried away! It was just so comical seeing my brother holding the coffin, right next to his very confused dad and uncle, that we couldn’t help it. That bit of comedy was just what we needed at such a sad moment in our life, and I firmly believe that God urged him to go so our great-grandma could go out with her family smiling for her and her descendants.
(My grandma has come for a visit all the way from Romania. She’s a quirky type and pretty superstitious.The results can be either awkward or funny. Example #1: We’re having dinner and my brother bites his tongue.)
Grandma: *translated* “Someone recently told a lie.”
Eight-Year-Old Brother: “What did she say?”
Me: “Biting your tongue during a meal means you told a lie recently and you’ll have bad luck until you tell the truth.”
Eight-Year-Old Brother: *blushing* “I was the one that dug up the flowers, not [Dog].”
(Example #2:)
Mom: “My eye keeps twitching.”
Grandma: *with her back turned, cooking* “Left or right?”
Mom: “Left. Why?”
Grandma: “Something’s going to disappoint you.”
(As if on cue, my twin brother and I come back from school.)
Twin: “Hey, Mom, you look wonderful today.”
Mom: “What did you do?”
Twin: “I failed my English test.”
(Example #3:)
Grandma: *translated* “Don’t stay in the corner of the table, [My Name] or you’ll never get married.”
Inner Me: “I wasn’t interested in getting married, anyway.”
Outer Me: “Sure, Grandma. I’ll move right away.”
(Before I get in our new pool with our grandsons, I decide to explain a very important rule by telling a very old, very corny joke.)
Me: “Boys, welcome to our ‘ool.’”
(They both looked puzzled.)
Me: “I can see that you’re wondering why I called it our ‘ool.’ It’s because there is no P in it, and we want to keep it that way.”
(They burst out laughing. Two days later, their mom brings them to swim again. She and I are talking when the older boy yells:)
Grandson: “Uh-oh, Grandma! Now it’s a pool!”
