Whiskey and Marbles

I love any sort of holiday because it generally means family time.  And sure I do love the family time, but really family time makes for great blog fodder.  And I’m using it.

My grandmother on my mother’s side, Marge, is currently living with my parents, for many different reasons, one of which is the fact that her short term memory is not fully functional.  And it may seem mean for me to blog about this, but don’t worry, she’d tell you the same thing.  She likes reminding us that she can’t remember much. 

And really, it is terrible but I don’t know what we expect of a wrinkly pink organ (the brain.  was that not clear?) after it’s been working hard for over 80 years.  I mean, if after 50 and 60 years people start just kind of throwing their belongings into closets just so they don’t have to deal with them, then why do we expect that the brain should keep track of what shelf the mayonnaise lives on or whether or not we’ve had lunch yet.  It keeps a chronological log of all major events in our lives, it can’t be bothered with condiments and feeding times.

So is it a little sad that my Grandma is losing her memory?  Yeah. But I hope to God that when that happens to me (as I’m confident it will) I’m as good-natured about it as she is.  Oh, and also as hilarious. Seriously, she has taken this as her shot at stand-up comedy.

Case in point: I bought a couple of jigsaw puzzles for Grandma for Christmas, because she and my mom enjoy them and because she’s been difficult to buy for for the last 15 years, much less now, and so I bought her 2 jigsaw puzzles figuring if she hated them it really didn’t matter, but she probably would like them and it would also give her something to do. 

So she picks up the present, shakes it, and says “sounds like marbles.  Which is good, because I’ve lost mine.”

Ok, it was really funny in the moment.

Earlier that day she picked up another present that was wrapped, but was very clearly a bottle of body wash from Bath and Body Works. 

“Yay!  WHISKEY!”

This comes from a woman who I don’t think has ever had a drink in her life.  From a woman who was once given a bottle of wine as a gift, waited a reasonable amount of time for what it might take to drink said bottle, and then poured it down the drain and took the bottle out to the trash and stuffed it underneath the other garbage so the neighbors wouldn’t see it and get the wrong idea. 

And it just now occurs to me that this may actually be a story about one of my great aunts. Or one of my grandmother’s friends. Or just a funny story I heard.  Anyway, it doesn’t matter because this is something she’d do too.

So we all erupted in laughter at her exclamation.  And then even harder when she finished unwrapping it, and we said, “look, shower gel!” and she said, with impeccable timing, “oh shoot!”

And so I’m writing this as a reminder to myself to buy my grandmother a flask filled with whiskey for next Christmas.  She’ll either be thrilled or really confused and stuff it in a laundry hamper.


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