My Grandparents: Part 2

As my visits with my grandparents naturally dwindled as I got older, they seemed to become more tense. Now when I was there Grammy would mention that I NEED to make sure I come by more often. Then I started getting little religious speeches about going to church and she would quote bible verses to me and tell me that she prayed for me daily because of the life I was living. Please, I'm a fat chick - I was not living life nearly as dangerous as I wanted to because no one wanted me. But anyway, after a year or so of these little lectures taking up more and more of my visits, I realized it wasn't fun going there anymore. I was being scolded instead of welcomed. My visits became even more infrequent. And amazingly enough Grammy's bad attitude towards me increased. She began yelling at me that I didn't love her just like my Mom yelled it at me. Now, I don't know what made these 2 women think that screaming at me and crying hysterically would make me want to spend all my time up their asses, but apparently that was their goal. Both of them started going out of their way to make me feel bad about anything and everything they could.

I would cancel plans with my friends because Mom would call and ask me to go to Wal-Mart with her and me saying "I have plans" launched one of her crying spells that was so pathetic you actually thought she might shoot herself if you didn't go to Wal-Mart with her. Because we all know that saying "I love you" means nothing compared to being guilted into a 30 minute trip to Wal-Mart. But, this post is not about Mom - it's about Grammy. As I neared the age of 30 I began feeling sorry for my Mom because I realized she was a product of her raising. And my grandmother was 100 times worse than Mom was.

I was at my parents house one day about 5 or 6 years ago when the phone rang. I answered it and it was my grandmother. "Hi Grammy" I smiled into the phone while rolling my eyes. Immediately the side of my face became drenched in the venom that was being spit through the phone towards me. "Oh, it's you!!! I can't believe you even recognized my voice as much attention as you pay to me. You obviously don't remember where I live. I haven't seen you in over a month, after all I did for you when you were a kid. God is watching you, are you going to church yet?" I started to say something along the lines of "I'm sorry, I've been busy" because my guilt always caused me to lie to her and Mom about where I really was and what I had really been doing. They didn't actually care anyway. But before I could finish my sentence, Grammy interrupts me with "You listen to me, Young Lady!! If you cannot figure out how to come see me at least twice a month, then you don't ever need to come see me again. Do you understand me? That's an order!" At which point I turned and yelled for mom that she had a phone call. Of course, Mom was filled in over the phone about how disrespectful I had just been (? I don't get it either) and she started an argument as soon as she could. I told her Grammy had made the decision not to see me and that was fine with me. But guess what? Mom CRIED! And guess what else? I felt bad.

So after several months I started contacting and visiting them again sporadically. But things were never the same. I would call and say "Hi, I was calling to see how you guys were doing" and would hear "We're fine. Thanks for calling. CLICK!" Or, I would stop by for a visit and as soon as I stepped into the door I would get "Oh, I'm so glad you're here because the living room windows need washed on the outside. The ladder is in the garage." So I would go out and do the damn chore for her only to get done and be told "Well, it was nice seeing you. Come back again sometime. Be careful driving home. SLAM!" So, things just got worse and worse. And a few months ago the biggest blow up yet occurred. And because it's all so ridiculous I am just done with it. I am not speaking to her. Mom, of course, is about to lose her mind over it. But, I don't care anymore. That's the awful truth. I don't care anymore. Not just that I don't care whose mad, I mean I really don't care about my grandmother anymore. I know that sounds harsh, and I don't mean I won't be upset if something happens, it's just that I don't care to see or speak with her.

There are a lot of details and conversations that were left out of this post because of it's length. But what it boils down to is this: When I was little I felt so loved by them. I never wanted to be anywhere else. At the age of 4 I ran away from home (for like 10 minutes) but had to come back to ask how to get to Grammy's house. Unfortunately, my grandmother has issues. For whatever reason she only associates love with how much time you spend with her. It doesn't matter to her that I loved her every day for many years and have such fond memories of being with her. It only mattered that as an adult who worked full-time, attended college and tried to find someone to love me that I didn't see her a certain amount of times each month. It's sad, but it doesn't bother me anymore. I just hope it doesn't get that bad with Mom but I can definately tell she is her mother's daughter. The older we get, the more trouble we have. But I'm trying to hang in there. I wonder if my Grammy ever wishes she had hung in there?