Grandma

My grandma, on my mother's side, is quite a remarkable woman. She's 87. In addition to having seen so much change to the world in her lifetime, she's also outlived her one and only husband, two of her kids and even a grandchild. She's a tough old bird.

She was here for the funeral. I haven't seen my grandma in years. Haven't talked to her in years. But she was there to greet me with a hug when she saw me.

She stayed with my mom. I find it hard to talk to most people, even family. I've really no clue what to say to people. And usually when people talk to me, I find myself wondering what is the point of the discussion. Too often it seems people just like to hear themselves talk. Or speak on subjects that make them feel somewhat validated and superior in a subject. Which is natural, I suppose. I know I do. I usually find myself drawn to conversations concerning movies, music and comics, for those are the only subjects I feel to have some extensive knowledge and understanding.

Anyway, the morning I stopped at my mom's a few days before the funeral, Grandma was there and helping my mom fold clothes. Mom is someone with whom I can spout off anything, and she'll listen. Often laughing at my dry and caustic delivery of any number of topics. I don't know if she does this because she's truly entertained, surprised at my outrageousness, or maybe just laughing to keep from crying. But she's an (usually) attentive ear. So I decided to chat up my mom.

"Hey, Mom, I learned some new words today," I said, flipping thru an Entertainment magazine.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep, I found out what the opposite of misogyny is: misandry - the hatred of men," I said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but the other word I learned I think applies to me more: misanthropic," I explained.

"Which is?"

"Hatred of people in general." I grinned devilishly.

Mom gave me a look of skepticism and annoyance. Grandma passed in front of me then, putting a shirt on a hanger.

"I love people," said my grandma, in her soft, sweet voice.

"Oh yeah? Why's that, Grandma?" I asked.

"They're so kind," she said very plainly. "They do such kind things."

I smiled. She was so earnest with that declaration. "I guess."

It was good seeing my grandma again. I remembered what a sweetheart she really is, and I think she taught me something. She taught me that there is decency in the world, if one chooses to notice it. In that moment, I wished I was more like my grandma. I wish I saw the world like she does.