Random Nonsense

My mom’s maternal grandmother turns 95 this weekend, so my maternal grandmother is in Springfield for the first time in … oh, 17.. 18 years? Before today I can only vaguely recall ever seeing her twice in my life. I have an inkling of a memory of sitting next to her on some random family member’s couch as my mother droned endlessly on to everyone about how smart I was despite possibly being the spawn of satan. The memory before that is even more fuzzy and really only contains her because I still have pictures of us together at The Gulf of Mexico when I was four.

I’m tempted to add “part one” to that title as I just know that I will be coming back to this topic.

Dear Mr. Internet Creepy Guy Number One,
No. Apology not accepted. I’m sorry I accepted the first one (no, that wasn’t an apology from me, but a statement of regret). You’re quite clearly crazy. When I spoke with you briefly it was to be polite, to break the ice. Apparently you saw it as the first step into our journey of 24/7 smothering togetherness.

He wanted to ask me if, while I was down there, I had gone through anything in Grandma’s room. My aunt had been down there at the same time I was and we had taken turns sleeping at my dad’s house as opposed to sleeping in the hospital. Thing is, at my dad’s house the only spare bed at the time was Grandma’s. Leaving those who stayed there an opportunity to have gone through Grandma’s things as she lay in a hopsice, dying.

(friends names has been changed to protect the innocent)

friend: that’s only the fourth time you’ve mentioned Timmy in the past 10 minutes
me: you can’t honestly be shocked
friend: I am. Usually you would have hit six mentions by now
me: see? stfu. I’m trying to cut back