I had the best grandma in the universe. I still can't figure why I got her. Maybe God felt bad since He forgot to give me boobs. Maybe He felt bad knowing I'd lose Zeke. Whatever the reason, He really did give me an AMAZING grandma.
She and my grandfather took each of their grandchildren (me included) to Hawaii when we turned eleven. I still remember eating a slushie while counting strippers walking down the main street.
"You can spot 'em," my grandma whispered, "because they have those high heels and big hair."
Forget the makeup and clothes. She was right, it was all about the big hair--like the 80's all over again right there, for money.
We laughed so hard. "Would you ever wear that, grandma?"
She just turned to me. She wore cool lots and a shirt with EVERY SINGLE part buttoned. "That's a few sizes too small. Do you really THINK I'd wear that? Oh, you're a pill." She patted my knee, then told me her favorite story, one I'd heard a million times. "Once I went swimming with my sister," she began. "She was so modest. She kept pointing to everyone on the beach saying how risque they looked. Anyway, we talked for a bit, and after a huge wave came by, I looked over and my sister had lost her top. I had no idea at the time. And for some reason, I seriously thought she'd taken it off like we were on a nudist beach. I mean really, she stood with everything exposed, still pointing out the risque people on the beach. 'You're one to talk,' I ended up saying, and you should have seen her face! She had NO IDEA she'd lost her top in the water."
My great aunt must have been mortified; that was so unlike her, you know, to show everyone her boobs.
Anyway, I was close to my grandma--obviously--not just because she could have been a ninja in the night, but because she held such a special place in my heart.
And for all of that, she could never remember my birthday (Groundhog Day).
Yes, I've heard all the jokes and I LOVE them. I felt prophetic as a kid because people always wanted to know if I'd seen my shadow--P. S. I did see it this morning, get ready for a longer winter.
Although my birthday is Feb. 2nd, every year my hilarious grandmother would always wish me a happy birthday on the 3rd.
Cade finally talked to me about it years ago. "Maybe you should tell her."
"I don't know," I said, but after a moment he convinced me. My grandma called me on the 2nd because we talked multiple times a week.
"Ummm, Grandma . . ." I took a deep breath. "Today is . . . Well, it's my birthday."
"Today isn't the third."
"Right, because it's the second . . . my birthday."
She didn't even miss a beat. "Your birthday has always been the third. It's not the second. Don't go trying to change things. Wait, your birthday has always been the third. Right?"
I felt like the Grinch. Why was I doing this?! The poor woman was amazing; she just wanted to believe she'd had my birthday right all of those years, since the day I'd been born--ON THE 2ND.
I thought of everything then; we'd been on so many trips together; we'd watched a million black & white movies; Hell, she even taught me how to spot strippers. I bucked up in that moment, ready to take the fall. Some things aren't worth it.
"I am so embarrassed," I finally said. "You're right. My birthday is tomorrow. I guess I just wanted it to start early."
"Or see if you could fool your old grandma."
I smiled. "So, you'll call me tomorrow?" I asked.
"Like I do every year. I'd never miss your birthday, Hon. You're my namesake."
I smiled and hung up. Some moments are just so special, somehow you'll never forget them no matter how many years go by, even after the person passes away or loses touch. So, today, as I celebrate my birthday, I just had to smile thinking about my grandma because I know she would call me tomorrow, if they just had phones in Heaven.