I went down to Colorado Springs this weekend to visit my Grandma. She turns 91 tomorrow. We brought her a lucky bamboo plant in celebration. She normally doesn’t like us to bring any gifts for her. She believes it’s a waste of money. She doesn’t want anymore material possessions. In her eyes it’s just another thing that needs to be taken care of. As a result, she doesn’t really even appreciate them. This makes my mother angry. My mom thinks it’s more important to receive gifts as a validation of people’s appreciation of you. We brought over food from Boston Chicken. She didn’t consider this a material gift and ate it right up. I like gifts but rarely expect them. I almost always accept them.
I was born 30 years ago. My mother gave birth to me at age 25. I know this because on my 25th birthday my mom told me, “you are now half my age.” This disturbed me. It also means my grandma had my mother when she was 35. I did this math in my head on Saturday night. Thirty-five is much older than I expected. I would guess this was particularly old to be having a child during the 1940’s.
My grandma still lives by herself, in a two-story house. She takes care of all the bills. She cooks her own meals. She has a hamburger and vanilla ice-cream every Sunday. She fills her own gas. She does her own laundry. She drives herself to the doctor. The idea of her driving around makes me nervous. I think she’s too old to drive. She has a “neighbor boy” mow the lawn. She thinks he charges too much money.
My grandma was really quite during our visit. I don’t think she has a lot to say. And she is generally a very quite woman. Maybe she has trouble relating to us. She is not very social and she rarely has guests. I suspect her life is very quiet normally. Our visit was probably a little chaotic for her. It was really nice to see her again. I should call her more often, in fact, I will.