My Grandparent's House

The house was beautiful once.

A long time ago.

Children ran through it, their laughter echoing through the long, majestic hallways. There was always the smell of the same three recipes she cooked, but the smell was heavenly nonetheless. She probably doesn't remember how to cook them anymore.

The first floor was vast. At least one bedroom, a den, kitchen, a dining room with a dining table so grand, I always felt microscopic when I would go into that room. Not that I entered it often. The table and chairs were always covered with a sheet. A fancy living room (the one no one ever uses) with furniture high in opulence and low in utility.  The living room had an actual gramophone. They were collectors, or maybe they just had stuff.

There was a bathroom, no shower if I remember correctly. It was lovely. Looked straight out of a sixties Grecian manor. All white, deep blue accents. Sort of middle eastern. I loved it. 

             On the first floor was a large indoor pool. Surrounding it was strategically set up gym equipment that I loved to play on. There was a pool table as well, and a closet-like bathroom only for showering quickly after a swim. It had one of those modern electric toilets that splashes the water around and beeps.

There was a life-sized bronze statue of a naked woman lying on her side, with an arm outstretched into the water. I'm willing to bet that was my grandfather's stylistic choice. The time I spent in their pool is most memorable. 

~~~"It's the birthday girl!" Everyone cheers. I giggle. My mother helps me into my floats and steps into the pool. I reluctantly follow her, afraid of the first touch of the water, and join her and my father. It is 2009. I am two today. I am happy. Not for long though. Someone doesn't let me do something I want to. But soon my father is splashing me and I am happy again. I insist on getting out of the pool, onto the ledge, and jumping into his arms. I insist on doing it over and over again. He lets me. Another preschool friend climbs onto the ledge and does the same thing with her father. I am not sure how I feel about it.

There are many people there. My friends, my mother's friends (we lived in Brooklyn at the time, and if you don't know what that means, New York City for someone who lived there in their twenties equals multitudes of friends, too many to keep track, I think), and my grandmother. My wonderful grandmother. It's her house after all.

The pool is the venue. But there is also an expansive lawn, tennis courts, again--pool table, for those who prefer an out of water experience. After swimming I am sat by someone (whose hands are on me? Why have my feet been unstuck from the ground? I can move by myself!) in a chair at a round table. 

My birthday is in July. It's humid, buggy.  I guess some people are on vacation. They can't come to my party. Other people are at the round table, kids mainly, parents hover, to get a picture. Of me? Why? I'm not your child. Who am I to you? Your friends daughter. Why are you here?  

I am annoyed again. I may have yelled at a kid or something and was reprimanded for it. I am that kind of kid. I'm not sure I'll grow out of it. God, why am I always annoyed.

The cake is placed in front of me. I'm still in the seat at the elliptical table. A cake is placed in front of me! My father has an aversion to sweets. So cake is a privilege for me and I intend to enjoy every minute of it. My mother made the cake herself! I don't know the flavor of the cake. It has white frosting. Either vanilla or some packaged high fructose corn syrup concoction. It has little gumdrop candies all over it! It says happy birthday with my name! I can't read it just yet. We're under a white awning.

Candles are lit. Who lights them? It's time to blow them out. My mother comes to one side of me and lifts me up. My father to my other side (this takes place before he left).

They ask me if I am ready. Are you kidding me? Am I ready? Of course I'm ready! I've been ready for this moment my whole life!

They count down from three. The slowest three seconds of my life! Please, go faster! I want to blow them out! I want to wish for something materialistic, because I am not yet at an age where every birthday wish must be for my family to be happy and healthy. I am still at an age where I wish for me. Two seconds now! They are smiling.

My mother is angelic. Youth in her eyes, beauty in her cheeks. She is only thirty-five. My father has his hand on my back. I miss his hand on my back. It's only there once a year now. Twice if I'm lucky.

It's time. They both blow with me, and someone takes a picture. We're a happy family.

It's mommy and daddy and me! Eventually it will become mommy and me. Then mommy and new daddy and me. Then mommy and new daddy and brother and me. Then it will be just me. But for now, it's the three of us. We're so happy. Well, they're not. They fight every day. But in that moment. We're completely, utterly content.

I eat my cake. No one better get a bigger slice than me.  

It is interesting to me how we have so many more friends when we are young. Perhaps we prefer each other when we all have a less developed personality.

We finish our cakes, all of us. It's a long drive back to the city. People begin to filter out. What a good day! Soon we will go home too. Things will return to normal from our bubble of bliss in my grandparent's house. They will argue again in our apartment. I love our apartment. I sleep on the drive home. Happy birthday.~~~

Eventually the house keeper stopped coming. I met him once or twice. He only did it anymore out of loyalty to my grandparents. He had his own life going on. The water turned green. We couldn't swim anymore.

Cobwebs grew on the corners of the ceilings. Dust collected on the shelves and tables. The outside of the white house became decorated with mold. No more children run through the hallways. No mouthwatering aroma fills the air. People stopped visiting to it. My grandparents moved out, gradually. Separately. It was left abandoned, unloved. And eventually foreclosed by the bank.

It darkened. The whole house. Darkened.

The house was beautiful once. A long time ago.