Grandma and Grandpap are hysterical. They are some seriously funny people. They've been married for 68 years and have cracked me up all my life. Grandpap is 92 and has Parkinson's; Grandma is 87 and in pretty good shape, although she calls herself "Flaky Sally" (and no, her name isn't Sally). And by her own admission, she was flaky before she ever got old. My grandparents now live in an assisted living facility are are thriving as a result. It's great to see them so happy and well and not have to worry about trying to take care of their house and property or just not having anyone right there to help out.
About two weeks ago, my grandfather was taken to the hospital with what was first thought to be pneumonia. Typical of his diagnosis, Grandpap usually has difficulty speaking and something of a stutter. While at the hospital, the nurses were asking him questions and getting some background from him. At one point the nurse asked him if, while he was working, he'd ever been exposed to hazardous materials. Without missing a beat and clear as a bell, he responded, "Just my wife." When I heard that, I knew he was just fine. (And he was.)
Over the weekend, we all took a trip to visit my grandparents. It was my brother, his daughter and her sister, my sister, her husband and their son and daughter, D and me. When we arrived, Grandpap was in the apartment by himself. We said hello and after a little while I asked why Grandma wasn't around. He responded that she was at church (the chapel in the facility). A little while later, he told me to go to the front desk and have someone get her. I walked down the hall and from a distance spotted Grandma talking to someone outside the common room. (Shocker--Grandma talking to someone? Seriously, this woman talks to EVERYBODY. She can literally strike up a conversation with anyone who will stand still long enough.)
As I approached, I called out to her, smiling, "Grandma, quit your yapping and get back to your apartment to entertain your guests." She looked up and was surprised (not knowing we were coming) and came running over. I got a big hug and a gentleman passing us stopped and had to harass her. "How come I never get a hug like that?" So of course, Grandma had to hug him, too. Just at that moment, one of the nurses came around the corner and said, "Come on, Grandma. Leave the boys alone."
Grandma: Hey...Whatever.
Me: Yeah, you gotta watch out for this one.
Nurse: You sure do.
On the walk back down the hallway, I told Grandma that we had all come to visit.
Grandma: Well, I didn't know you were coming. And here I am boozing it up.
Me: What?
Grandma: Yeah, I was at happy hour. I'm loaded.
(I must interject here that Grandma was not actually loaded. She was at happy hour and I have no doubt that she had a beer--or maybe 2--but drunk she was not. She wouldn't have been able to walk--even with the assistance of her walker--had she actually been loaded. But don't you love that my Grandma used that term?)
Back the apartment, Grandma shared her whereabouts with everyone else. D looks at me and says, "I thought she was at church? Hmm. Well, church, beer, it's pretty much the same to her!"
And I honestly don't think Grandpap was wrong. I just think it depends on your definition of church. And when your 92 or 87, that can be whatever you want.
No comments:
Post a Comment