(Turn, turn, turn...I really thought I had posted this...I wrote it down when it happened but I don't seem to find it. If it's in here...ooops.)
Okay, this is one of those posts I hope no one I know is reading. Got a call from a family member the other night. You can sort of figure…the phone rings at 9:30 and her name’s on the caller ID…there’s most of a bottle of wine involved. And some revealing talk and believe it or not…she’s louder than I am. (She, however, is breathtakingly beautiful with no makeup so she’s…forgiven. Contrary to what they teach you in Sunday School, what’s on the outside DOES matter.)
The phone call involved the fact that Family Member had walked in on her mom, and her mom’s boyfriend, lying together on the couch. Covered with a blanket. They both sat up to reveal totally clothed bodies, but FM was freaking out. Her dad died five years ago, after her parents had been married for over 50 years. We have no problem with the boyfriend…he keeps US from having to entertain Grandmother on a daily basis…but it’s still an…adjustment. Just a little.
Especially when you factor in that Grandmother is 78 and Boyfriend is 86. (Grandmother did make the remark that, before she considered marrying him, she’d have to find out if he has nursing home insurance.)
THEN, Grandmother goes to the doctor and comes out, gets in the car and announces, “He says I’m still an attractive, sexually aware woman.” FM pointedly started a conversation about the hydrangeas blooming in the median. Now, if there is one thing I’ve learned in 52 years it’s that until you have lived it…you REALLY don’t have a clue. Not a clue. You THINK you have a clue but Agatha Christie is lurking in the shadows and laughing at your ass. You. Are. Clueless. Until you’ve been there.
(Because it’s all relative…when I got pregnant at 39, my 15 year old nearly left home. She was MORTIFIED, beyond mortification. We won’t even GO into what happened when I got pregnant at 44…let it suffice to say her reaction didn’t TOUCH mine, but that’s another post.)
Last night, The Nice Kid (who will be 13 in a couple of weeks) and a cousin (who is 14) spent the night at Grandmother’s. Long about 9:30, my phone rang and I recognized the number as the cousin’s cell phone. Figured there was something funny on TV and they were calling to share.
When I answered, at first I couldn’t tell if TNK was laughing or crying. Then I realized she WAS laughing, but I still couldn’t understand her. Took a minute, I got her slowed down and reasonably lucid and…OMG.
There was a card on the kitchen table. And, being young girls, they picked it up and read it. It was to Grandmother, from the boyfriend, and on the front it said, “You are the light of my life.”
OMG, how sweet. Imagine finding a companion at this stage in your life. Someone to play bridge with and go to church with and attend bingo with. How sweet is this?
The inside of the card? “And I love turning you on in the dark.”
This opens doors you didn’t even want to know were built into the wall. But again, I haven’t been in this building. I just wish…I’d been in a different driveway.