Lambrusco and Breadsticks

Dear Grammie,

Mum and I went to the Olive Garden tonight to drink a glass of wine and celebrate how wonderful you were.

We each had a glass of your favorite wine, Lambrusco, and toasted you. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. You know how I always think all wine tastes like church wine. Ick! This wasn't that bad though. It had some fruity notes to it that made it more mellow and less sour.

We each had the Never-Ending Pasta Bowls and I ate two bowls. I know, O-I-N-K, but it's been so long since I've eaten carbs like that. I'd forgotten how delicious carbs can be. I think I've stayed up long enough that I won't get sick from them. I hope.

We had good conversation and laughed about how Mum is deviating from her norm and it's weirding me out. Tacos? Coca-Cola? Late movies? Really? My mother? Yeah.

They've almost got your house sorted out. The charity truck came today and hauled some of your stuff off. The auction house is coming Wednesday. The appraiser said your dining room table set it worth about $1500! It is a beautiful table. Teak always has such a gorgeous grain to it.

We missed you tonight at the restaurant. It was odd to be there without you. We "dined" for almost two hours. We tipped extra, of course. Mum forgot she had a mint in her jacket pocket and Peanut ate it. We managed to get the foil out of her mouth. That wouldn't have been good. I asked her what Peanut was so into over there and if she had food in her jacket and she said "no." Ooops. I called the Emergency Vet to ask if Peanut would survive the chocolate and mint delight and they said she would. She may have an upset tummy though because she doesn't get that kind of stuff over here. It's dog food and dog treats and chew bones. No people-food.

Speaking of Peanut, I'm going to try and get her into the Vet tomorrow. I'd like to have her looked at for her sneezing and snot-blowing. That's gross! I know her old Vet said it was allergies, but I'd like to have her looked at by my Vet. I'd like them to look at her tummy too and see what's going on there. It looks rather like dermatitis or something of that sort. Perhaps there's a cream that would help. She also needs her rear checked. I saw her scoot earlier and I know what that means.

Don't worry, Gram, Peanut is well-loved here. She's doing so well with her house-training too. This winter she can go on her potty-pads if it's just too cold outside. I don't plan to leave her alone out there at all. I'll take her out and bring her in each time unless she decides to go on her pads again. She's only gone on them once since she came to live with us - every other time she waits and goes outside. I love her a lot, Grammie. She's a nice little dog...well, unless you're male.

Anyway, I suppose I shouldn't blather on endlessly. I love you Grammie and miss you very much!

Talk at you soon.


Love you always,
Kit

St. Tony's Bazaar

Dear Grammie,

Guess what? Kaboodle and I are going to St. Tony's Bazaar. I know, huh? Well, Grandma Ginny called and asked us to go along, so we figured it would be some kind of fun. I like to look at all the things they sell there. Sometimes you find treasure.

I'm still fighting a cold and I'm not really sure if I should go out and about today, especially since it's raining and windy, but I'm going to chance it. I have to go over to your house and pick up the last of my things anyway.

I better go get dressed and ready, but I just wanted to drop you a note before I left. Talk at you soon!


Love you always,
Kit

Ginger Ale and More!

Dear Grammie,

I ate way too much crap today and developed a stomach ache so I stopped to buy some ginger ale. The green bottle reminded me of the couple times we flew together and split a can of ginger ale.

Being reminded that you're dead is like a nasty surprise.

Kaboodle and I went to Bennigan's today and I had the Monte Cristo and a bowl of potato soup. You would've loved it. I thought that we should go there and then I remembered that you weren't here anymore. *sigh*

I miss you so much.

Mum and Auntie have been at each other's throats lately. I know you told them to get along, but they're too different, methinks. Mum actually went to a movie in a theatre tonight! I was shocked. She's been doing so many things out of character since you died. It's weird.

I looked at the pictures of your 80th birthday today when I uploaded them up my computer. You looked so tired but happy all the same. It was a pretty good day, wasn't it? You had a good appetite and enjoyed most of your favorite foods. It was nice to see you smile. Your little dog was happy to see you too. She's a sweet little dog.

I guess I better go work a little bit now. I miss you.


Love you always,
Kit

Funeral, Etc.

Dear Grammie,

Your funeral was yesterday. It was a nice funeral. There weren't as many people there as I expected, which really surprised me. I know you were very well-liked by many people and to see the Church so empty really puzzled me. The only things I can think of as reasons is that you were 80 when you died and that perhaps you had out-lived a lot of them and second is that the Church is pretty big. Maybe it just looked empty because people were spread out all over. Heck, maybe even the fact it was a Monday and a work day contributed, but I certainly would've done whatever was necessary to get off work.

I did a reading from the Bible. I'm not normally a really religious person, as you know, but I thought you would like it if I did a reading. I've never been up there on the podium before and I was a little nervous. There were a lot of things to remember - proper times to bow, and to pause and how and when to regard the congregation. It's sort of a blur in my mind now, but after the service I received a lot of compliments. A few people said I should read regularly. I think that means I'd have to go to Church every Sunday and you know I think Church is boring. Sorry, Gram.

After the little luncheon thing, we were going to drive to Melrose to bury you. Kaboodle and I left the luncheon early to gas up the truck and get your little dog ready for the ride. We hurried, but the buggers left without us! Can you believe that? Not even a phone call! It's okay though, because doing 100 mph on the Interstate for two miles caught us up nicely. Dangerous, yes, but I didn't want to get to the cemetery and have everyone be gone already.

Oh, the cemetery. It had been raining all day and the mosquitos were awful. I don't know if they were so excited to actually have living humans to feast on or what, but they were just swarming us all. It didn't help that it was now dusk. Some guy said some words and then we all shook holy water on your casket. Your sister had a tough time, but I helped her. They lowered you down after sealing your casket inside a...well...I don't really know what it was. Some kind of sarcophagus or something. It had your name and the dates on a metal plate on it and it sealed up tight. It looked metal, but I wasn't going to go over there and plink it or anything. Pretty sure my Mom would've freaked out if I did that. Your little dog was a very good girl. She let people pet her and she cheered up Auntie, which was good because I kind of thought she was going to have hysterics.

I must say, Grammie, it was really, really weird seeing you in that box. They locked you in. Well, maybe that's locking people out. I don't know. I suppose there's a good reason for it, but I don't know what it is. Foil grave robbers? Do people still do that?

I was a pall-bearer for you. You were heavy, Grammie. Well, okay, not you specifically, but your casket. You remember those big stone pillars flanking the start of the main aisle in Church? Yeah, try to get six fat people and a huge box by those unscathed. Not gonna happen. Your box was okay, but we were all squished. Wrecked the buttons on M.A.'s suit. At least you rode in style, though, right?

It rained when they brought your box into the Church and it rained again when they brought it out. I almost lost it then, on the way to the hearse. The gray sky, the rain, the places so full of memories, and you in that box. I mean, I know you're not really in there, it's just your body, but still. Anyway, we saw you into the hearse and later, into your grave.

As I lay in bed later, listening to the rain fall on the roof, I thought about your body laying under all that wet earth in the cold night. I miss you, Grammie. I miss you so damn much. I miss talking to you and telling you things, which is why I'm writing these letters. Oh, which reminds me. Do you know what they are doing with your furniture?! Putting it on Craigslist! Really. I'm not kidding. I'm so mad I could...I don't know...spit? Seriously, I'm way mad. I just want to crack some heads together.

Okay, I suppose I should sign off for now, Grammie. I've got a bunch of work that needs doing. One can only procrastinate for so long before the deadline arrives and it's panic-city. Besides, I'm kind of a perfectionist about my work, as you know. Talk to you soon!


Love you always,
Kit

After the Wake

Dear Gram,

Well, the wake went pretty well. A lot of your friends from the choir showed up and sang. I haven't seen some of them since I was little. I wish Inez had been the soloist. The one they had sucked donkey balls. It was like she was tone-deaf. She sang so badly that the dogs outside howled along with her. Okay, okay...maybe I exaggerate a little bit, but it was pretty bad.

After the service I went to your house that's not your house anymore and ripped off that horrible girdle and changed back into my shorts and tee-shirt. I know I should lose a little weight, but I have an ice cream problem. Anyway, my cousins and I went out and had some burgers and played a few games of pool. It was pretty fun!

Tomorrow is your funeral proper and I have a reading to do there. Mum told me to practice it a lot, but it seems pretty straightforward. I've never read at the church though, so I'm a little nervous. What if I trip and split my pants? I'd never know with that damn girdle on. I hope someone texts me if that happens.

Right now, I'm fighting exhaustion because I wanted to drop you this note. Your little dog is snuggled up aside me. She's so warm and wiggly. I am honored to take care of her for you.

I saw your body in your casket. It was sort of creepy. No offense, Gram, but it just didn't look like you. There was no warmth or smile. It was like you are totally gone from this world now. I know you are, but just in case there's Interwebz in Heaven, I thought I'd write. You never really did take to the computer like you thought you might. I'm glad you got a few good games of solitaire played though.

Well, Gram, I guess I'd better sign off for now and get some sleep. Tomorrow is your service and then the long drive to the cemetery to lay your body to rest. I'm a pallbearer, you know, so I'd better be rested up. I don't want to drop it. I hope my hands don't get all sweaty. That would really, really suck. Almost as bad as the soloist.


Love you always,
Kit

Getting Ready for Your Wake

Dear Grammie,

Well, here I am, getting ready for your wake. It's weird you know? I did two large photo boards with pictures from your life and it struck me that I won't be able to show you my work anymore. Who's going to appreciate my half-arsed attempt at art like you do? It's like I'm living in a crappy parallel dimension.

Peanut is doing pretty well here. She's almost potty-trained. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but it seems that you can at least potty-train them. Well, if you're really diligent and watch them like a hawk. It doesn't make it easy to get anything else done around the house, but at least I don't have to do the pee-pee dance.

You should see my suit. It looks really nice. Too bad I'm too fat for it. Yeah, I have to wear a girdle-corset type thing. It's not very comfortable and if I'm not careful, I chafe. My shirt is coral pink. Yeah. Well, I’m only wearing it because it's your favorite color. I look like a strange version of myself. Like I'm playing dress-up or something. I vote for "something".

I suppose I should shut my yap and get moving. I'm all ready, shoes even shined, except that I haven't put my "zoot suit" on yet. I'd better load up the car and go over to your house to put my clothes on. They sold it, did you know?

Your three kids sold your house to some stranger. I wanted it, but I already have a place that I call home. I hope the new owner doesn't change everything too much and make it ugly. I spent 33 years coming and going from your house as I pleased and to lose that last little bit of my "always loved and accepted" zone really kicks me in the teeth.

Sorry, Gram, I gotta run right now. I'll write more later when I get home.


Love you always,
Kit