Grandmas, the ones that cook for you and give you candy are the ones that love you for who you are and let you get away with things they wouldn’t let their own kids get away with. Some grandmas can’t even walk when they get up in age, but then there are some like mine who at the age of 83 are doing things other 83 years olds don’t and shouldn’t be doing. Most people would expect an 83 year old grandma to be knitting, light cooking, playing bingo and slowly walking her way to church.
Not my grandmother, you can find her climbing on ladders, fixing fans, constantly moving, driving big pick-up trucks, all while looking like she is going to the social club. My Grandma is a very unusual senior; she is constantly moving around and living in different places of the world with different people. I remember when I was about 8 years old I went to stay at her house during vacation; Her house was in small town in the southern part of Colombia where it is always hot and muggy. The house was big with lots of plants, when you entered you could truly feel like you were in the rainforest.
It was always very hot and our room had very little ventilation, but as bad as it was it had a ceiling fan. As usually I was laying down in my room trying to ignore the heat, hoping that the fan would help. Bored out of my mind because there wasn’t much to do in the city she was in, I unknowingly decided to stare at the circulating arms of the fan when I noticed something unusual. The fan was not only rotating but it was rocking back and forth as if it wanted to come down from the ceiling.
It took me a couple minutes to come out of my daze, and then I quickly jumped off the bed and stood at the door as I watched the fan falling in a rhythmical dance of twirls in a downward movement until it hit my bed right where I was. My biggest concern was the expectation of a long steamy night ahead, without a fan in my room. But long and behold I saw my grandma marching down the hall looking like a tv personality that could only belong in a home improvement show. Fifteen minutes later I had my fan back, thanks to my very handy grandmother.
My grandma was married to a coronel in the army reason why they were always moving. As a family we have had our fair share of moving adventures, between east and west coast and all the way down to South America. What I remember the most is when my family and I moved to Arizona. In the middle of July with a blazing 110 degrees I remember seeing the moving truck arrive to our house, once the truck parked a small framed woman climbed down from the cabin and asked us where the moved where. We soon realized that we weren’t going to have anyone there to help us unload because the movers didn’t come.
At that point the entire moving crew became; my dad, mom, my seven year old brother, my 75 year old grandma and of course me with 5 years of age. My mom and dad began to unload to be quickly followed by my grandma. My parents didn’t want her to help because of her age and because of the heat which we were not used to. But much to my parents discontent there she was bringing down boxes and putting my parents to shame as she kept refusing to take a break. Not long ago my uncle had a stroke and became confined to a bed.
My grandma not wanting him to live alone decided that she was going to move in with him because he lived in a very big house all by himself. He has an HVAC business and all he drives are vans and big pick-up trucks. His pick-up truck is a 6 wheel machine that wants to be a full size moving truck when he grows up. To get in it you have to put a step ladder or be at least 6 feet tall. If you take a short ride you will become impregnated by the diesel fumes of his engine, driving that truck can only make me think of the pick-up truck commercials where big muscular men drive these huge trucks s if they were actually driving tanks.
When you see a truck pass by you, the last person you would expect to be driving it would be an 83 year old woman. This is what happened the first Sunday that I was in town visiting my uncle; everyone got dressed up with the best Sunday outfit, and of course my grandma looked like she was going to an Easter photoshoot. I was expecting to go out and get a taxi to go to church but instead we came out and found my grandma with the truck running tell us to hurry up because we had to go to church.
We never figured out how she got in by herself because we had to help each other get in. Logically, my grandma shouldn’t able to do half the things she does. The only reason why she does these things is because does them for the people she loves and also because she forgot to age. Using the saying that says “The beauty is in the eyes of the beholder” I can say that age really is in the heart of the beholder, and my grandmother has a very young heart. I look forward to seeing my grandma climbing on ladders and driving pick-up trucks without ever losing her elegance and beauty
