The grandma in Parenthood can do no wrong. She is a solid lady. Wise and idyllic in her presence and words. The roller coaster monologue is award worthy for life’s best lessons given by fictional grandmas. Seeing her makes me miss mine. Times are tough. But aren’t they always? Uncertain times undoubtedly make us yearn for times when life was simpler and the biggest concern was if we would kick the can before being tagged. If you were lucky enough to know your own, grandmas and grandpas forever hold a special place in our hearts. So, in honor of that…
17 years. Wow. You’ve been gone that long? Really?
In an instant, I can still hear your deep throaty chuckle and see the twinkle in your eyes as they squint with laughter. I smell the kibbie baking in the oven and see your wooden “ditty” spoon sitting there just waiting for me to give it a reason for a quick whack on my butt from being too fresh. I hear the stairs squeaking as you head to your study to really nail down this “email thing”. I sneak another fudge stripes cookie from the plastic avocado green cookie jar and throw a satisfied smile at the ditty spoon. I slide my pinkie finger perfectly through the whole of this chocolate deliciousness, slowly nibbling around it with the same amount of joy that comes from peeling dried glue off of my hand. I hear your lighter click and the smoky wave of Kent Gold 100’s makes its way to my nose. I smile knowing that soon enough a frustrated grunt will be following in its wake and a fresh pack of cigs will be nabbed from the freezer. More power to you for attempting the computer with blue haired indignation that fed your determination. Speaking of, the last few years have brought major love and determination in our kitchen. Who would’ve thought that cooking could actually give me peace of mind? Bonus: anytime I reach for a pot or pan I am instantly transported to your driveway for our New Year’s tradition of banging them over our heads like two wild animals. The hell with the neighbors! They may have been seeing red but we were seeing nothing but the glowing stars above our heads. Even now, a simple flip up of my head and those stars give me an immediate sense of warmth and protection. They let me know that you’re okay. Silly right? To hope that you’re okay. Of course, you are. Know how I know? When I speak to you, you listen. I hear you. Now. I see you. Now. I love you – even more. Now. “To thine own self be true,” you would say. I believe that more and more the older I am. And yes, when you suggest that I lighten up, I do listen up. But of course, you already know that.(Wink, wink.)
Oh, Meems. Thank you for the loving strength and the sincerest curiosity you continue to deliver to me in this uncertain world.
All of my love,
(The peak of my glue peeling stage. Me (L), Meems (C), Big Sissy (R) )
Parenthood (1989, dir Ron Howard) The Buckmans are a midwestern family all dealing with their lives: estranged relatives, raising children, pressures of the job, and learning to be a good parent and spouse.