February 18, 2008


My dad, the budding videographer. If you google him, the main thing that comes up is pictures he took of Manuel Noriega. My dad says the the most scared he's ever been in his whole life was when the Panamanian secret police beat him with his own camera. Since we were just going to go visit Grandma at The Manor, he didn't need to worry.

My grandma is 90 now, and no longer walks. When my dad was cutting up her radioactive looking pears, she was laughing and telling him he was a good boy. When ever he helps her, this is what she says. Once the baby of the family, always the baby.

Dinner takes a really long time when you are older. It's like an hour long process. My dad spends all his vacation time with his mom. He goes on 50 mile bike rides and then goes and see his mom because that's all there is to do in rural Indiana. He's a dutiful son, her only.

She made him show me--she's been busy--getting 1000 people a day out of purgatory with her prayers. Until she was unable to get around, the only times my grandma missed mass since she was 4 years old was when she was giving birth or having heart surgery.

After dinner, we went to go see a band down in the cafeteria.

Mother and child reunion.

Literally the worst band I've ever seen. These people are old, but they're not deaf. I spent the whole time thinking about that this summer will really be the year I get the nursing home band together. If you live in Chicago and want to do this with me, holler. Seeing a room full of nanas and armless, white haired vets brighten up as soon as they recognize "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" and "5 foot 2 Eyes of Blue" and sing along, it'll make you cry. Just think about it. I think you only need an acoustic guitar, 3-4 people singing, a tambourine and someone who can play piano and you have a nursing home suitable band. You've always dreamed of being in a band that changes people's lives, right? Glee Club people, you guys need to learn Moon River and get on this elder-tainment tip.

Decorations in my grandma's room.

After the show, we had some drinks.

And I had the great privilege of brushing my grandma's teeth. I used to brush my Nana's teeth too before she died. I consider it a one of the great honors of my life, that I have brushed the teeths of both my grandmas. Nothing like brushing someone's dentures with your same last name on them to put your life in perspective.

Home again, Home again, jiggity jog.

Posted by Jessica at February 18, 2008 02:19 PM | TrackBack