Do Grandmas get any cooler than this?
I know you were all perched precariously on the edge of your seats to hear what my remarkably magnificent grandma would say in her next email, so here it is:
Fri, Jul 10, 2009 at 4:21 PM
Kimberly,
Thank you for Emailing me. I am computer ill-literate,so bear with me when I do something wrong.
First of all, a comment on your new name. I was born in Minneapolis, you know. and it is a little “reminiscent” of that. Is that sort of your computer moniker?
Now, to get to the real business of the day. Your weight problem. I read your last blog. I feel like using the word bastard, too, when I hear what has been going on with you for all these years. I just can’t believe the incompetency somewhere in the medical community. I hope you have the problem solved and are on your way to new and wonderful horizons.
I laughed at your description of yourself as a giant cocktail olive. I hope your Barbie doll therapist turns out to be a good friend on your way to a new body.
I love you so much, Kimberly.
Grandma.
Harsh criticism sandwiched by loving compliments. I told you she was good. Although, I have to admit, for a mere moment, I was loving Grandma a little less with the “weight problem” comment. Geez, Grandma. Don’t hold back, now. My delicate feelings are of no consequence, or anything. Tell me how you really feel. SHEESH!
Is it any wonder that I am as brutally honest as I am?
Regardless, just when I thought she couldn’t get any MORE awe-inspiring…she sent me this:
Thu, Jul 16, 2009 at 10:43 AM
Kim,
Read your blog. Would have been so worried about you years ago when you had no safe place to skate. And your near disaster in Santa Barbara. Stay safe now.
Using my left hand.
Love, Grandma.
Aw. Wait. Does that mean she’s not worried about me NOW? (I kid.)
Why was she only using her left hand, you ask? Because she just had surgery for her carpal tunnel syndrome on Monday. Yes, you read that correctly. My almost 90-year-old Grandma had major surgery, on her hand no less, and she STILL managed to send me a lovely comment on my last blog post. And some of you can’t even manage to push the little “like it” button. You should be ashamed of yourselves! ASHAMED, I tell you.
ANYuseapencilclenchedbetweenyourteethifyouhaveto, what my grandma fails to mention is that ALL of her grandchildren lived on, or near, the Cliffs of Insanity. If you think the little hill out in front of my house is bad, you should see the behemoth my cousins Cam and Mandy had to contend with. Roller skating, bicycling, even walking in less-than-comfortable shoes were simply not an option on Jameson Drive. Heck, trick-or-treating was barely feasible. If it had not been for the promise of free candy, I think we would’ve skipped the event entirely.
And my other three cousins lived on a rather steep slope themselves (in all 15 different locations). What’s up with that? Why is it that, at NO TIME in all of our combined childhood years, did any of us live on a flat street? Did our parents not consider the fact that we might want to bike and/or roller skate without losing a limb, or putting our lives at risk?!? Or do the family elders all have an unnatural or inborn affinity for living on top of a mountain? It boggles the mind. Truly.
Thank you, Grandma, for each and every one of your stellar emails. Your computer skills are astounding, and I am so very proud that you are my grandma. I hope that I never disappoint you and continue to amaze you with all the things I can do. I wouldn’t be half the brilliant person I am had it not been for you. All of my love and hugs and kisses.
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