When I was a big little girl, many years ago, I used to imagine tying up (and gagging!) my teacher and parents and big brother and little sister – and the yappy dog next door – so they would have to listen to me when I talked.
Now that I am a big girl almost grown up I no longer have this wish (well, not often!), because my grandma moved in next door.
My grandma listens to me.
When we go for a walk and she says, “Hilary, put on your sweater,” I say, “I don’t want to, I’m not cold,” and she says, “But what if you get cold on the walk?” And I say, “Then I will suffer.” And she laughs and says, “As long as you don’t complain and complain or make me run home to get your sweater or expect me to lend you mine or try to grab a sweater from some other person on the street.” And then I laugh and say, “Maybe I’ll get my sweater and tie it around my waist – just in case.”
And my grandma says, “I wish I didn’t always make your mommy wear a sweater when I was cold. I spent so much time treating her like she was me.”
When I come home from school and want to watch television instead of doing my homework and tell Grandma this she says, “Hilary, what will your teacher say?” And I tell her my teacher is not going to be there tomorrow and the substitute teacher never asks about homework . Then Grandma says, “I guess it would be a waste of time to do your homework and you might as well watch tv. And if your homework would have taught you something you need to know in life, well, I imagine you will learn it later when you need to.” And I think about this and almost do my homework but I watch tv instead.
And my grandma says “I wish I had not always made your mommy do her homework but I was worried she would get into trouble if she didn’t and I wanted her to be smart so everyone would think how smart I was.”
When I want to kick my brother and yell at my parents and pinch my sister and instead I visit Grandma and she asks, “Why are you so cranky, Hilary?” and I tell her, she doesn’t say anything, she just listens and lets me explain.
And my grandma says, “I wish I had listened more to your mommy. I was so busy trying to solve all her problems.”
When I have nightmares or am scared of dogs or don’t want to visit my uncle who coughs all the time or when I line up all my shoes in a neat line because I might have bad luck if I don’t, Grandma says, “God bless,” and gives me a big hug.
And my grandma says, “I wish I didn’t always tell your mommy not to be afraid. I guess I was afraid of her being afraid. Or afraid myself.”
When I am quiet and want to be alone, Grandma gives me a glass of milk and a cookie and says, “Have a nice picnic with yourself.”
When I say how pretty I look or how well I did in a test at school or how high I can climb in the tree or how rich I am going to be, Grandma says, “Well, well.”
When I say how awful I look or how dumb I am or that I am no good at sports or how I never get enough allowance, Grandma says, “Well, well.”
When I say I want to be just like my grandma when I grow up to a really big woman girl, Grandma says, “That is a lovely compliment, Hilary. But I wouldn’t tell that to your mother and father.” Don’t I know that!
I am glad my grandmother had a little girl who is my mother who had me so I could have my grandmother as my grandmother.