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when I was with grace and the girl gang, it felt like a sorority house, and y'all know how weird I am with women. I was BG (bruised girl), grace was JG (junior girl*), Merri was OG (old girl), and mother was AG (ancient girl). *junior girl is normally what I am but I didn't realize it until there was another junior girl in the midst - it was the first time - at 5fun that I realized I had always been the junior girl - the servant.
(and I think we can all agree based on my last post that the 'friendship' that grace and I had was a toxic one-way yes-man street and she dodged a bullet not picking up my bid and wanting back)..."I love you. I'm sorry. please forgive me. thank you."
as you know, my Grandmother S was the angel to all of us. she had money. she had stability. she didn't have a drunk raping dick lord calling the shots. we loved going to her house. for me, I never had to share her. I was the way baby. I'm just going to recall it for myself because it has been sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo long since I've allowed myself to feel loved:
peach cobbler baking in the morning when you wake up after giggling all night listening to stories of when you were a princess in the woods.
ernie munson on the radio calling the braves. sitting on the deck looking into the gully of the woods at the Brittany apartments playing 'I spy'.
a closet with flower-lined paper and a 64 crayon box.
(being temp poor now, I can understand why my mother only bought the 8-pack - every every cent like being on a diet every calorie is the math) Grandmother S was the fairy godmother. she would get the onions off the hand burgers - order them that way - at Macdonalds and wait special.
I have lost her ring, and I had it almost until the end but I lost it...
the one thing I needed that I never received - but it's the hardest thing to get of all and I didn't ask properly:
someone to hold my hand.
I was alone.
I sit in a haunted aqua robe from that time. it was the only garment I was able to wear as my skin was on fire with the sea bather's eruption . everything from there is a haunted house. it was beautiful. it was everything. it was my "I'll save this from a fire" object.
can you imagine my devastation that I lost it? I suspect now that I had put it in a 'safe' place while I was bathing or on the mantle - I was always careful with it... and someone stole it or maybe it is lost.
I do not joke with you reader when I tell you that I just howled out loud in pain at losing this totemic ring. it has been with me through EVERYTHING. I had it in the original crazy house with me. She was my grandmother embodied. they ripped it off her dead hand.
(WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T I SAY 'COME HELP ME!!!!! SOMEONE COME HELP ME! I NEED HELP. HELP HELP HELP HELP SOS SOS SOS)
the old refrain
I didn't want to be a bother.
now, I take that to the millionth trajectory and fucking want to die
mais le chat.
le chat
el gato.
you cried when I was in the upper written fugues of my grandmother grief. you must be psychic/empathatic and for that like marvin the robot and the p.o.v. gun - for that - I pity you. but more, I have to believe it's real and be inspired to lighthouse better for your health.
I love you
please forgive me
I'm so sorry
thank you....
it's a mantra an astrologer gave me.
so my grandmother - her name was Annie.
we always always always called her Grandmommy it was beautiful to say her name.
I loved her and felt loved by her every day of my life until that night when the moon happened that I looked out and my mom was worried in a way that meant silence not even radio in the car as we went to respond to my brother "you better come. we're going to the hospital. she had another stroke and this one seems... bad."
she lived. her body lived, but my Grandmommy died the night I was eleven. a new person was in her body. I called it Granny so as not to be confused. I fucking hated granny. I hated having the person I love being taken over by what my grandmother would have almost labeled a demon. she was selfish and scared and mean and loud - none of the characteristics of Grandmommy.
so when I'm mad, I wonder if it's like that - like a stroke that goes back.
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