Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Ode to Angie

My Grammy Angie (Jelly) passed away this morning. If any of you remember, my Grampy Lino passed this fall, and I posted what some of what we found in his wallet. Well, Angie did not carry a purse anymore, so I cannot do the same tribute. But I have so many fun stories... and I thought I'd share a few.

When I was a little kid at the Williams Middle School in Bridgewater, I was feeling (faking?) sick and asked the nurse to send me home. My mother was at work, so my Grammy Angie walked to the school to pick me up (she lived right down the street.) I loved sick days at Angie's house... mostly because I had her all to myself. She would make me chicken noodle soup with saltine crackers... and would stir the fizz out of my ginger ale... and lots of hugs and kisses. We would look at pictures, she would tell me stories... we would watch soap operas while she brushed my hair.

But this particular sick day was different. I'm not sure if she had something else to do or if I was possibly driving her crazy... or she just thought I would feel better if I slept... but she decided that we would sample the different flavored brandy's from the deco slat front liquor cabinet. I can remember her pouring just a little smidgen of each one into the different stemmed pony glasses. Coffee flavored brandy, Ginger flavored brandy, Black berry flavored... and I'm sure there were more. But needless to say, I slept well till my mother came to pick me up.

When I moved home from Italy, I spent a day with Angie to show pictures and tell her everything. She asked me if I had learned any 'bad words' in Italian... of course I did! Isn't that the first thing you learn in any new language? So, one of the words was 'stronza' which is loosely translated to 'little shit' or 'turd.' And Angie just started laughing... because she always thought that was a little pet name from her grandmother, because she was called that all the time! Apparently great grandmother Catherine was not a nice grandmother... but she's a story for another day.

But more recently, a couple of years ago, I was taking Angie for a little walk (she was in a wheel chair.) It was at the point when she was starting to fail... she didn't really didn't speak much anymore. As I was rambling on about something or other... and she just pointed up to a tree. I asked her what she was pointing at and she simply replied 'Do you see faces in trees? I always see faces in trees.' So, I decided that her happy insanity must be where I get my creativity from.

Overall... I'm just happy to remember my spunky short Grammy with the cotton ball style hairdo and would pinch me in the ass every time she hugged me. She would swing those arms when she walked, stomach sucked in chest out, and take all stairs 2 at a time.

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