I was going to post something all about me, me, me but I changed my mind and decided to write a little story or two about my Abuela in her honor because hello, she is 96.
Her long-term memory is sharp as a tack. She can remember down to the exact day when certain events happened. I have heard hundreds of stories about her working in the fields, digging for clams in the river by her house, taking lunch to her family in a basket on her head miles away and being wanted by all the boys because in her words "I wasn't the prettiest, but I was hard-working and respectable", which I guess was on all the boys lists in pre-war Spain. Also, once she balled her hand into a fist there was no way you could undo her fingers...NO way. Most of those stories I have heard on repeat for the past 10 years. In fact, I remember one summer when we were together that every time we rounded a specific corner of the road I was treated to the same story over and over and over and.....over. I could silently repeat it from the back seat by heart.
But her short-term memory is a little behind and sometimes she forgets where she puts things and gets a little frustrated when she can't find them. Case in point; My parents were out of town one weekend years ago and she had made a couple of loaves of bread. Well, she was missing one loaf and couldn't find it anywhere. So naturally who would she blame? Me, I was the only other person in the house. She was convinced that I had stolen a loaf of bread from her. I mean she could NOT be dissuaded from thinking that I stole a loaf from her. I reasoned and reasoned with her. Why would I steal a loaf instead of just taking a slice? Where would I hide said stolen loaf? Well, if I hadn't stolen it for me then I had stolen it and given it to one of my friends. I wasn't really in the habit of gifting loaves of bread to my friends at that time or ever really but she didn't believe it. It could only be one of two things for her: Either I stole it for me or I stole it for a friend. She was mad at me for hours until finally I went a looking for it. I opened the oven and it was still in there. She had forgotten it in the oven. Simple mistake I guess, just why all the stealing stuff? I just have to remember that when she was growing up in Spain and going through the Spanish civil war that someone just might have stolen a loaf of bread or something even worse. So I brought her the loaf and showed her where it was and then we called it even.
I laugh about it now but I think I was pretty offended at the time that she thought I would steal from her. I reminded her of the story last time I was with her but she didn't remember any of it. So we laughed and laughed about it together over our lunch at the Chinese Buffet she loves so much. She is a great lady.
Her hearing is getting worse but she never ceases to amaze me. Be it being baptized at 92 or always changing who gets what of her jewelry based on our performances that month to lovingly breaking up her dogs hard food with a hammer everyday to hemming all my pants for me.
Te quiero Abuela.
2 comments:
She told me once, via tu madre, that she always had "this" many boyfriends. She never had troubles with not having boys because if she didn't have any, she made them up.
Then she made me count to 100 in spanish.
I always liked how she thought you and Jenn were loose women for going out after dark.
GUYS DON'T LIKE THAT!
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