My maternal grandmother turned 93 a few weekends ago. It’s rough being 93, but she’s doing it about as well as anyone could do 93. She’s a simple woman, but was not always “of her time”. For instance, she never learned to drive. The first time she ate pizza was when my mother turned 16 and drove her to the pizza parlor.
Her comment? “It’s a whole new world!”
But on the other hand, after nine years of dating (!!!) my grandfather, she had had enough and EXPLAINED to him that they were going to get married. No ring. No bended knee.
“Enough foolin’ around already!”
I was astonished (a) that she’d WAIT NINE YEARS, and (b) that she’d be so aggressive (knowing the 1920s). I told her she was quite a woman to do that.
Her response? “You have to be!”
Her latest adventure is living at an assisted living facility not too far from my house. It was quite an adjustment for her to give up her independence, but as her health started to decline, she realized she needed more help. That doesn’t stop her from bitching every now and then, mind you.
She’s a big card player (me, I prefer dice). Her latest game is “SkipBo”. They even have a group of ladies that play together called the “SkipBoettes”. I asked her about her group and she said they played every now and then, but…
“This joint doesn’t really get poppin’.”
That bearcat’s the real McCoy! I’m headin’ down to a juice joint in her honor, babycakes!