I Love My Grandma

“I’m right here sitting on my @$$ where the hell do you think I am?”

That was my Grandma in the background of the Skype session I was having with my older sister today.

At one point, she fell asleep sitting up. She does that sometimes. But don’t let her fool you. If you challenge her to a game of shuffle board, ping pong, arm wrestling or Rummi Kub- she is likely to kick your asno (that’s Spanish for a bad word).

And I’m not kidding either. She legitimately beat me in all of those games last summer. I miss her. A lot.

While I was Skyping with my sister and Grams, they were doing an art project. My Grandma used to be a fashion designer. She’s still an artist and if you give her a pencil at the dinner table she will draw you up a nice little sketch on a white napkin. Doesn’t matter if it’s those fancy cloth napkins either- she will curse the waiter right outta there. (unless, of course, he is young and cute and can dance).

Danielle said maybe Grandma was tired today because they went mini-golfing in the morning. Perhaps there’s a bit of short-term memory loss, because Grandma insisted they had only done 2 holes by the time the sign said 18, so, Danielle quickly purchased another round.

Grandma has been golfing for years.

And I mean years. She is 94. I write/talk about her a lot. Actually, I brag. Because she is awesome and she inspires me everyday. More importantly, she makes me smile and laugh until I am crying and she also loves me even in spite of the fact that I do not yet have a rich, cute Italian man.

I’ve been travelling a lot the past few years, so I wondered if Grandma knew where I was this time.

She said, “Sure I do. But where the hell is Cambodia anyways?”

I lived for 2 years in El Salvador and she used to ask me how Guatemala and Africa were all the time. It took until I moved back to NYC for her to ask me if I was still in El Salvador. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

Danielle and I keep talking. I watch them sitting around my Aunt’s pretty backyard, painting peacefully.

I hear Grandma in the background. “This dog’s face looks like someone I know.”

She was the one who

painted the dog.

I wonder who she had in mind.

Danielle says that she still has the photo-card that I made for her five years ago posted on her wall downstairs.

That makes me smile.