Grandma Maggie wanted to make sure I had the finger. She also wanted me to have her precious, faux-diamond studded, Bitch necklace.
I miss my Grandma so much.
She taught me to have a better comeback – always. Case in point: when I was 14, I said to her, “Grandma, how do you find an old man in the dark?” I knew that she would fall for the joke and that I would shock her! I just knew it!
“How, Gabby?” She smirked.
“It isn’t hard.” The punchline! With perfect timing! I waited for her to gasp.
She took a sip of her beer and nonchalantly said, “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
I have all her old Op/Ed clippings. Whenever a local politician pissed her off, she sat at her typewriter until a scathing, biting article flowed from the pages. Then she would send it off to some local newspaper. She kept all the clippings. When we would visit her beautiful home in Bailey, CO, I’d thumb through them with complete awe. That was what I wanted to be: outspoken and fearless. She was my inspiration. She still is, even more so.
This was where I learned the importance of speaking up and speaking out at injustice, or at least political stupidity. This is where my VBlabs stemmed from. Grandma taught me that silence is the enemy.
She found her true love on her fifth marriage. I think it was her fifth. Georgie … a Jewish beatnik.
They used to go out drinking and partying. Grandma Maggie had a reputation for dancing on the tables (always wearing her faux-diamond studded Bitch necklace).
Then she grew too old for that. So, she resorted to pottery.
Even there, she never chose to follow the crowd. When the other blue hairs were making bowls or vases, she made The Finger. This is by far, my favorite sculpture, ever.
As she aged, she blossomed. One Christmas, as the family sat around sharing small talk, Grandma decided to tell all of us about her recent outing to the neighbor’s house to smoke pot for the first time. She even wore a “hippy” skirt to commemorate the occasion. I was so impressed! Here she was in her 70s, trying something new. Oh, I so admired that! I vowed then and there that when I grew up, I wanted to be like Grandma Maggie.
I was lucky. She came around for my cousin Nancy and me. The rest of the kids, not so much. Nancy and I were so fortunate to learn about this diverse, talented, social, outspoken woman. I consider myself lucky and blessed, so lucky and blessed to have had her in my life.
I can still hear her voice. I can still feel her holding my hand. I can still feel her presence and smell her perfume.
And, with each Mother’s Day, I miss her more. I miss her jokes. I miss her advice. I simply miss having her around.
So, this year, I’m going to give the finger to Mother’s Day, for Grandma Maggie.
I know she would be proud.
Recent Comments