|Picture by Ky|
I walk with purpose.
People have a hard time keeping up with me regardless of the length of their legs (heaven help them if they are short). I don't wander or stroll, I walk every where with purpose and determination... even if I have no where to go. I also walk heavy. If I were a teacher, I would be the type who could be heard coming from the other end of the hall with loud clicks from my shoes.
One day, I came into Grandma's apartment from outside. She had been at her normal perch in front of the window watching everyone go by and trying to figure out which two people were couples and which ones would shortly be so.
I came into the house and Grandma turned to me and said "You know I love you and want to see you marry a good man. But could you walk like a girl, for goodness sake?"
I brought my wedding dress with me so that I could show Grandma. I knew she would be excited and want to be apart of it. I put it on and modelled it for her and my aunt the first afternoon I arrived. Grandma was thrilled by the dress. Less thrilled by the shoes. She was horrified that I would be wearing red.
The next day, I put the dress on to show my sister and my cousin. I walked out into the main room and showed the girls. Grandma came out from her room behind me. "Are you wearing that again??", she exclaimed.
|Grandma and me on my wedding day|
Grandma is always trying to feed us. She does not take no for an answer. She pushes cookies and cheese puffs like a dealer with crack cocaine. Then, as though she isn't force feeding us everything in her fridge, she innocently asks if we've been gaining weight.
As I was packing to leave, she came into my room offering me a tray full of butter tarts. I had just had lunch moments before (including pie!) and so declined the dessert.
You don't want a tart?
No, thank you. I'm good.
You don't like tarts. (This was not a question. It was a statement -- of indignation.)
I do like tarts. But I'm full. Thanks anyway.
Okay. I'll go get you a muffin.