Taking Time in the Moment

I had too much going on right now, but Mom could be overwhelmingly persuasive when she wanted something and today she wanted me to visit with her and Grandma. Now! I tried to talk my way out of it, but she went on about her appointment with the tax collector on Wednesday and her social club visit next week and then Bingo nights. It didn’t matter that I had finals on Thursday or two extra shifts at Lucky’s this weekend. I needed money. I needed to study. I needed extra time that I don’t have.

I pulled up in the driveway to find them both scrambling onto the front porch. Great. We’re sitting outside in the 90 something degree hellscape rather than in the air-conditioned comfort of the living room. Thanks, Mom. I soaked in my car’s a/c for a few extra moments before plastering a fake smile on my face and heading up the steps. “Hey, Mom. Grandma.” I nodded at them both, acknowledging that I had made the extraordinary effort to grace them with my presence.

“Honey, sit with your grandma while I finish the tea.” Mom was already being too fussy. She was patting at Grandma like she was an overgrown toddler who needed extra help finding her seat.

“Leave me alone! I don’t need to pee!” Grandma viciously snapped at her and swatted her invasive hands away like they were flies buzzing around her face. Actual insects were beginning their lazy flight to investigate our dewy-skinned presence. Mom had talked about screening in that porch for years but had never done it. Something about damaging the original architecture. She was a sucker for this old Cracker home. Mom bent down and clicked on the rickety, oscillating fan by Grandma’s feet to help combat the muggy Florida humidity and a few of the gnats immediately dispersed to find less challenging prey.

“I said ‘TEA,’ Mom! I’m getting us some TEA!” As Mom yelled, she spoke slowly as if Grandma were also dumb as well as deaf. She wasn’t truly deaf, just incredibly hard of hearing and, being the most stubborn one between the three of us, she flat out refused to get hearing aids. She simply didn’t trust doctors which is ironic considering she was a nurse for 50 years. Or maybe there is no irony in that at all.

Mom sighed and disappeared into the house.

“Your mom sucks at making tea. She doesn’t use enough sugar and, back in my day, you let it sit in the sun until it was brewed just right. She takes short cuts. Always has.” Grandma crossed her arms and sat up straighter. Her way was the right way. Our ways were cheaper, artificial, wrong.

I turned my head. “Well, maybe you should make your own damned tea.” I muttered it half to myself. I was tired and irritable. I really shouldn’t be here.

“Well maybe you should watch your damned mouth when you speak to your elders, you little brat!” I snapped my head around and Grandma was glaring at me with a look so cold it would freeze your bones.

“Grandma! How did you hear that? I thought you couldn’t hear…I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I’m just sorry.” My face was flushed and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. This woman changed my diapers and let me sleep over when I was little. She tucked me in and read only the best stories. She held me when I was scared of a bad storm or a nonexistent boogie man. She was everything.

“I can hear just fine, pumpkin. I allow certain people to think I can’t hear so they’ll shut the hell up. Otherwise, they’d talk my dang head off all day long about crap I don’t care about. Who gives a rip about American Idol at my age? Do you know who Suzy at the drugstore is dating now? Do you know who doesn’t ever want to know? ME!” She grimaced with a look of disgust. Suzy did date a lot. I mean, everyone knew that. Personally, I didn’t think it was anyone’s business.

“But, what? Grandma, I can’t let you. I mean, how can you?” I was flabbergasted. This woman always amazed me with her knowledge and wit, her strength and compassion. Yet here she was living a lie because my mother was too chatty and a bit of a gossip? Faking a disability? I mean, she was never officially diagnosed so I guess it wasn’t truly a disability if it never received a medical seal of approval.

She sank back into her wicker chair and gazed out across the lawn. “Shh, sweetie. Listen. Just take a moment to listen.”

I stopped and settled into my own chair, shutting my eyes and opening my ears. I heard mom clanking around in the kitchen at the back of the house, the wood floor creaking with each step. I heard the motor of the fan whirling at Grandma’s feet and the click each time it changed direction from left to right and back again. I could feel and hear the breeze as it tickled the branches of the large oak that grew in the center of the yard, leaves rustling and chattering to themselves, challenging each other to hang tight and grab the sunlight that was beginning to fade into the late afternoon. The birds voiced their own opinion of events as the neighbor’s wind chimes settled into a few sweet, ringing notes to punctuate the moment.

It was beautiful. It was a symphony of peacefulness. My stresses were suddenly distant and less important than the moment in front of me.

Grandma sighed. “Do you understand? I don’t have a lot of days left, sweetie. I just want to see, hear, taste, and smell the beauty of my world. I want to soak up every bit until I have my fill. I don’t need to talk about things anymore. Life is too short for that. Talking is just noise. The rest, well, that is life’s background music.”

I grabbed her hand. “I love you. I do want you to hear that.”

She smiled. “You know I love you. You have always known.” She squeezed my one hand inside both of hers. “This is our secret, right?” She shifted her gaze to the screen door. Mom’s steps were approaching down the hall.

I winked at her. “Your secret is safe with me.”

The door banged open and mom presented three huge glasses of sweet, iced tea on a platter with some steaming banana bread sliced on a plate. It was my absolute favorite. “Here you go ladies! Fresh out of the oven. Well, fresh but cooled a bit. I wasn’t going to burn my fingers off cutting it. I put extra sugar in the tea for Mom, but seriously, I can’t imagine why she likes it so danged sweet! I mean, diabetes is a thing you know. In fact, did you hear that George down at the hardware store just found out he has the diabetes? I can’t believe it. Shirley is just so distraught. I did tell her years ago that George was putting on too much weight, you know, getting a little thick around the middle. He was always so fit in high school. Running back, I think he was. Bless his heart. Now he must take those shots, that insulin. Not even the pills. I thought they always started them off on the pills. Do you know anything about that, honey?” She was looking at me.

“Mom, I’m in school for marketing, not medicine. I bet Grandma would know, but it would take too long to try and tell her everything you just said. I’m sure his doctor did the right thing. Don’t worry, Mom. George and Shirley will figure it out together.” I glanced at Grandma and her eyes were shut, but a grin was playing at the corners of her mouth and her left eyebrow was cocked up like she was silently asking me, “Do you see what I mean?”

I completely understand, Grandma. Enjoy your peace.