I have officially been living in my new apartment for two weeks and I'm almost completely unpacked. It really is amazing how fast time flies, doesn't seem like more than a week ago I was packing and trying to get out of my old apartment. I have enjoyed the silence a little bit, kind of have been keeping to myself, which has helped me reflect on my life and where I want it to go. This blog is meant to talk about life experiences, mostly new, but this one will be about something that happened earlier this summer. It probably is the highlight of my summer...
I was supposed to have a gig on June 1st. An out of town gig for the jug band that I participate in. I asked off work to make sure I could make it to this gig. Instead something happened that prevented us from fulfilling the gig, so we all decided to gather at someone's house and have a little jam session. It was all going well, being with old friends and jamming out to new tunes. I'm usually the type of person who never gets phone calls during the day, but this day I got a call from my grandma. My first thought was that something was wrong, because she never called that early, but instead she sounded lonely, looking to get together. She asked if I wanted to grab lunch in like an hour. I told her that I was at a band practice, but would call her as soon as I left.
After the jam session I called her and asked where she wanted to go. She said she didn't care, that I could pick, but then she thought of the Lakeshore Grill in Macy's. It was the one place that we always ended up going to, mainly for their steaming, hot popovers and quiet atmosphere. We pulled up to Southdale, handicap parking of course so we didn't have to walk too far, and went to the basement, which is where the restaurant is. We both ordered the same thing, which for the life of me I can't remember what it is. I just remember it was some sort of chicken with Asian noodles. It was really good, but also really filling.
Anyone that knew my grandma knew that she had no problem speaking her mind and saying whatever popped into her head, especially the last few years. We had been sitting there for about ten minutes enjoying our food when two ladies, who were clearly in love, walked in and sat down next to us. My grandma stared so hard that I think she forgot how quiet it was in the restaurant, because then she said, in a voice above a whisper, "Do you think they are gay?" My face went lower towards my plate, and I had to smile. Here is an 89-year-old lady, she has earned the right to say whatever she wants, she doesn't care about offending anyone anymore. On the way to the elevator she repeated, "Do you think they were gay?" I said, "Grandma, you know you can't ask people that in public," to which she said, "I think they were."
After filling our bellies with good food I asked her if she had any errands to run, and she told me she could use some milk. So we stopped off at Rainbow and walked the aisles looking for Toaster Strudels and milk. Toaster Strudels were always her favorites, she had one every morning. For as long as I can remember, whenever I eat one I think of her, that and Spaghettios, which she fed me whenever she babysat for my mom. I drove her back to the assisted living where she was staying, and said goodbye.
A month and a half later, on July 20, 2013 at about 7:30pm, my grandma died after complications from a broken hip and a long battle with cancer. That dinner was the last time that we got together just the two of us. I saw her a couple times after that, the very last time I actually saw her before the fall was on July 4th, and when I got her on the phone I had to convince her to come along, that it would be fun. She didn't like to go out much the last few months, which was probably due to being afraid of falling or being tired, I can only imagine, she never told me the exact reason. That last dinner really was one of my best memories of her, though, because she never said no or even hesitated to get together last minute for lunch or dinner with me.
I have done a lot of healing over the last couple months, but I still cry when I think about her. She was very special to me, and she was the one person that seemed like she always understood me and never judged me for being different. Now when I have Mondays off I don't know what to do because I would always call her up for a late brunch at her apartment. I know she was in more pain than she let on, and I'm glad that she isn't suffering. It takes a strong person to live through as much as she did. I have no regrets though, I have a lot of happy memories, even just this last summer. We got to go to a couple brunches, she got to see my accordion band play, and we enjoyed the fireworks over the skyline of France Ave.
When I think back to that day of our last lunch, all I can think is I shouldn't have been free for lunch. I was supposed to be at work, or out of town. By some divine intervention, as if God knew something special would happen that day, I was able to get together with her. It was hard to get together those last few months because she was always sick. This was one of the few days that she wasn't. I'm glad that everything worked out so that we could have one more lunch at the Lakeshore Grill.
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