l leave for Costa Rica in two days. Off to see my mother, and the Texan side of the family, who's also flying down, and whom l haven't seen in something like five or six years...maybe seven....ack. Anyway, it'll be really kickass to see them.

My grandmother will also be flying down. She's now 91. She's always looked two decades younger than she was, and has always been spry. l think this will be the first time l see her at her own age. l'm not sure how l feel about that. l've honestly never liked her much. l liked her a lot more when my grandfather was still alive. He was her raison d'etre, and l think after his death, the world became a very ugly place for her. She didn't feel like she belonged amongst all this technology, this rap stuff, this world that had changed so much since she was a child. And when my grandad died, l think the world took from her the only human being who ever understood her. Since then, she has just been generally disapproving of everything, and my mom catches the most hell for that. She just can't seem to do anything right in her mother's eyes, and l wonder if that's why my mother has been so very patient with me through all my stupid bullshit - even times when l probably would have benefited more from a kick in the ass than a loving, accommodating response. l can't imagine how painful it must be to grow up with a parent who never quite appreciates you...no matter how admirable and mature you prove yourself to be.

But l had my moments with the grandmother too. After my mom and l moved back from Kenya, we stayed with my grandmother for a few months. lt was shortly after my grandad's passing, so we helped her pack up his stuff, and l think she needed the company. But she made my life miserable. lt didn't help l was seventeen and adjusting to some major changes of my own, but l discovered during this time, for the first time, that she was racist. My best friend's boyfriend was Mexican, and one day when they picked me up, my grandmother made some comment about how he didn't belong in that neighborhood. They picked me up a block away after that. l realize now that l should have had the presence of mind to remember she was in mourning and l should have been more considerate.

l realize now that she just feels LOST. She doesn't know how to navigate this world that moves so fast, and she has nobody to compare this growth with. And l realize that because l never had much in common with her, l never actually TALKED to her, and l certainly didn't listen. l never asked her how she felt about the life she lived and what she'd seen, or the life lessons she felt she'd been given. To me, she was just some woman born almost a century ago, restricted by misogyny, war, and financial depression, in small town Waco, whose major excitements in life seemed to pretty much be bake sales and church. But does that mean her life wasn't rich in some ways?

l've decided l intend to find out. l wrote her a letter this year, apologizing for my general aloofness and disinterest. l pretty much let it all hang out, and owned my lack of compassion. lt was a difficult, humbling letter to write. But l think she understood, and l know she appreciated it. This year l am giving her a notebook in which l hope and will encourage her to write about the stories and moments in her life that shaped her, changed her, surprised her, and pleased her. l hope that it's not too late to get to know her. And l think this is my goal for this trip.





That and the beach. :)
Happy holidays, kids.
xoxoxoxoxoxo
Ali-cat