Ten years ago today, my grandfather's girlfriend, Aunt Helen, died. For as far back as I can remember, we spent her birthday at my grandfather's house. We'd sit on lawn chairs in his backyard in the sunshine and eat peanuts.
Helen was a large woman with enormous feet; her toenails were always painted bright red. She'd slide off her sandals and call, "Come find my ladybugs," and my brother and I would crawl on our hands and knees towards her feet to find her bright red "ladybugs" in the grass. When we found them, we'd tickle her toes and she'd laugh.
I can't believe I'm getting misty about playing with a heavy woman's feet, but life's funny like that. What about you? Do you have a special memory that's a little offbeat?
21 comments:
Ooh, sounds like the beginnings of a short story. You should write about this, seriously.
Listen to me. Death and mistiness? WRITE ABOUT IT! Clearly the MFA thing ruined me.
That's actually a really sweet memory. I like the image of red toe nails in the green grass. I'm imaging a southern accent, though. Don't ruin it for me.
When I was a kid and went to visit my dad at work, this co-worker of his would put me in the paper only garbage barrel and roll it around with me in it.
I liked it and thought it was a little stupid at the same time.
Happy Mothers Day!
I think all of my special memories are offbeat. But I love this. It's sweet and a little kinky.
The memory association pathways are fruitful research topics for neurobiologists. And psychiatrists.
I think everyone has unusual memories about loved ones who are no longer with us (sorry, mother's day is coming, I always get misty at mother's day).
That made me smile. My grandfather used to share his beer and snuff with us girls while we were playing cribbage. We only got to see him once a year, but every year we'd do the same thing.
I'm so glad your "Aunt" was such a good woman, it sounds like she knew what she was getting into when she met your GP :)
Snuff? Really??
My 'uncle' Lloyd used to have me pull his finger all the time.
I remember my dad coming home from work at the mill with a little surprise for me in his lunch basket. It was usually a candy bar or a pack of gum. It was always a special treat to me.
My grandmother would tell my friend and I that we were vacuum cleaners and have us go around and pick up lint on the carpets when we were 3 or 4 years old. We thought it was great and she got to watch her tv shows in peace.
I'm back to say that I liked this very much and I gave you one of my Goddess Awards!
Please come by to collect it :)
At my age, you can bet I have hundreds and hundreds of those memories. Congrats .... fellow Goddess!
What a sweet post.
That reminds me of a man who I new as a kid who ran the riding stables. He was an old white haired Spanish man in his 70's who was all of 5'1". I towered over him as a teen but marveled at his presence and how he could scare the crap out of any of us kids with a look. But his hands were so gnarled from age that his fingers curled. Those hands had seen work unlike mine will ever see. I had to appreciate those hands.
I think it's a sweet memory.
Growing up my grandfather worked long hours at a meat packing plant, when he got home, exhausted after dinner, he'd ask my sister and I to tug off his boots and his damp socks. We always did so, happily. Luckily he's still around, but that memory is defining for some reason. Weird.
I used to spend part of my summer with my grandmother. Her best friend was a woman I called Aunt Elsie, she was ancient when I was 12, but she dressed like a hooker most of the time, sparkly tube tops, Tulle skirts, and tiara's. She was batshit crazy, in the best possible way. I still miss her.
My grandfather would make us clean and polish our tennis shoes to go to an amusement park. Random, but memorable.
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