One of those weeks

It struck me midweek that it has been a year since my grandpa passed away. I am generally pretty good with dealing with death, but this one bothers me for a number of reasons. Shortly after moving back to Minnesota from Des Moines, I decided that I had had enough of my dad's family. In general, they are very nasty people and were not supportive in my move back or anything in my life for that matter. They are mean little people and I often found myself as the outcast and singled out for their meanness. Normal people do not call you drunk in the afternoon to yell at you for an hour about donating a mattress that no one wanted or needed. They also don't show up at your college graduation and insult you on your looks. Anyways, not the point. I hadn't seen or talked to them in years, when my stepmom called me to let me know that my grandfather had died. Okay, that sucks, but what sucks more is that he had had an accident on Christmas day and been in the hospital, having surgeries and being in and out of it for almost a month and he had actually died 3 days earlier. Nice. Thanks guys. Not only did they not tell me he was hurt, they waited to tell me that he had died, AND this comment from my stepmom "your dad doesn't know I am calling you, but you can call me on my cellphone and he won't know you called." He hadn't even thought of calling me himself. He is a selfish prick, but really?! Who does that? She told me where the service was to be and that they would be cremating him...strike that, they already had. I didn't go. I wrote my sisters a card and one to the whole family in general and left them the day before the service at the cremation society. Stepmom tried to call me one more time after that to thank me for the card. Not my dad. Not my grandma. Not any of my aunts, uncles or cousins.

BUT enough about that. Let's talk about funny stuff...

I had to take my grandma (mom's mom) to mass on Sunday for my nephew's baptism. She goes to mass more than once a week. Practically everyday, but I am not sure how she does it. I personally do not feel a calling to god or church, but she has no attention span. I realize that she and I are very similar. My mom calls me Little Rosie, cuz of it, but wow. I was zoning out, but she was hysterical. We weren't even 5 minutes in and she was whispering and giggling. I had to shhh my own 82 year old grandma, cuz we were getting looks. The priest was telling the wedding story of the water into wine and mentioned that there were 6 vessels of about 20-30 gallons each that were turned into wine. At this point my grandma turns to me and says "20-30 gallons times 6. That's a lot of wine. It would be quite the party" and wiggles her eyebrows at me. Now I am in the pew giggling next to her, and we are both getting looks. For the next 45 minutes, she is commenting on the stain glass, staring at the ceiling and peeking around at all the people in the church. I'm not going to lie; I was just as bad. I love that goofy little grandma.

If I have kids I want them to know her. Have her make them "skinny pancakes", caramel corn, quilts and crocheted dolls. To laugh with her, when she calls them every name but their own (she does this all day long-always has) and learn to read between the lines to figure out who she really is talking about. Wander through her garden, eat more berries and peas than go in their bucket. Show up with them on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to eat fresh made rolls with homemade raspberry-rhubarb jelly.