Remembering Dorothy

My grandmother passed away about a year ago at the age of ninety-six. Her name was Dorothy Frances, and she played a pivotal role in my life. I remember her as my "fancy" grandma. I'm not sure she was fond of little children because my memories of her only date back to when I was five. But nonetheless they are very special memories.

Everyday before school I would go over to her house and sit at her kitchen table. I would watch her smoke cigarettes and listen to her reminisce about her life. I heard some of the stories so many times that I feel sometimes as though they were my own memories. I have flashbacks of living during the Great Depression and giving birth to six children to this day.

We would discuss all the hot topics over coffee, black, no sugar. That is correct, I drank coffee regularly at the age of eight with an eighty year old woman. She loved to play bridge and surprisingly Bruce Springsteen, except, after he left his wife, she lost all use for him. If there was one thing that would put you on the bad side of my grandmother, it would be to leave your wife for another woman or come over to this country illegally.

She was rarely open with her affections. Every time I would talk to her on the phone I would say "I love you grandma" and she would reply with something that basically meant "Goodbye". But she was always there for me. She lived only two blocks away from us, and when upset, I would run away to the side of her house. I could hear her on the phone with my father saying "no Vickie isn't here". She would then yell my name from her front porch, and I couldn't not respond to my grandma.

She was a woman of her time. She saw an entire century. She buried two sons and her husband. She was a classy lady who loved cigarettes and dessert. Oh yeah..and the Republican Party, but nobody is perfect.

I love you grandma. I don't need you to say it back.