Last night I helped Grandma get into bed and after I turned off the light and was about to head out of the room she said:
“Maybe I want to be tucked in”.
I returned and sat on the edge of the bed. I asked teasingly if she wanted me to tell her a bedtime story. She laughed and said she did.
So, in keeping with the sarcastic way we tease each other I started to tell her the story of the horrible little old lady who was sooooo horrible that her kind grandson stopped feeding her candy, which was her favorite thing…
“Nevermind” I said, “that’s a stupid story. Here’s a better story…”
I then told her the story of the sweet little old lady who was so kind to her grandson when he was little that when she got very old and needed a place to stay he took her in and took care of her. She interrupted:
“And the little old lady appreciates it very much.”
We sat in silence awhile. We chatted a little about memories from my childhood.
“You were always a lapdog” she said.
This brought a flood of memories for me of sitting on Grandma’s lap as a small child. My first memory of Grandma is of us riding in the back of my parents’ car as I sat on her lap. I was probably under 2 years old. After I finished relaying this memory she smiled and started to doze.
I held her hand as she drifted off to sleep. When I got up to go to bed she woke up and in a raspy, half asleep voice she said “I love yoooo-oooouu”…
“See you in the morning” I said.
“When the sun is shining bright” she answered. Then, she yawned loudly and rolled over. It’s tiring being an old lady