I was going to see my granny last night, which I have not done enough since my uncle died. I said I'd be there around eight, I supposed, but Bodhi was strangely awake last night, and wouldn't settle. So I came downstairs at 8.40, to the ringing phone, and my grandmother saying she was getting worried about me. Sigh. As if I'm ever on time.
And then I arrived at 9pm, to her stating that it was bedtime already, looking pale and aged and feeble less of herself than she usually looks. Is 92 too old? Ugh. Last time I went out in the evening, she was all for it, and I had to extricate myself at 11 to go home and work all night. So I thought I was ok.
But no funny stories, this time, just sad ones, and awful truths - a five year old boy bruised from head to foot, and the doctor who wouldn't help, said the boy's father was only putting manners on him - and more insults for my slut of a mother (re the way she kept herself and her house again, not in terms of promiscuity, fret not). And how her life had not been easy or kind, and now this tragedy, right at the end, was just too much of a cruelty. And she wonders about an afterlife, but doesn't really believe. She's afraid. But she's also had enough. Maybe that's what the wolf in Red Riding Hood is about. Visiting one's granny is a lesson in mortality each time.
Driving home in the dark, pondering marriage, and choices and happiness, I looked at the flyover, which was once the New Road, under construction, and remembered the night we all sneaked out about 3 in the morning, climbed out the window and met up and and wandered about the roads all full of the joy of trespass and transgression and glee. I lost my new mini-maglite torch in the old ruined graveyard and Neil climbed up the new unfinished flyover bridge and jumped off, twisting his ankle nastily.
Imagine the horror of waking to find your thirteen year old is no longer abed, is missing without trace... it's ok though, she's only wandering the deserted country road innocently, feeling that midnight mystic promise and wondering what her place is, in the leafy dark. Watching boys climb up stuff and fall off...
6 comments:
Well, aside from all of the esoteric stuff, I can see why you don't jump at the chance to go visit your Granny.
Mm. Well. She's great in many ways. But feeling sad and embittered now. the worst thing is her asking the same questions over and over and over each time. Just because you start to feel condescending answering them again and again and again.
Heavy stuff. It's nice she has someone to listen to her go through all that stuff. Just a shame it's about your parents.
Towards the end, my nanna was quite amusing. Many strokes had stripped away the carefully managed woman I always knew and tales of chasing sailors and slutty neighbours abounded.
I miss her.
I like your take on the wolf -- you're right. The shadow of demise and mortality lurks close behind.
Lovely post, Jo. Love the bit of nostalgia at the end. Rather moving. C x
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