I'm all introspective this morning, and I'm obsessing over family. Mostly, I'm thinking about how both of my grandmothers died when I was a baby. This never bothered me as a kid because I didn't know any better. But now, as my friends' grandmothers are only just now dying off, it seems really weird that I didn't know mine.
From what I've gathered by watching my friends, grandmothers are awesome. They spoil you. They watch you when you are wee and give you chocolate when your parents aren't looking. They buy you frilly dresses and, at least from what I observed in my fancy private university dorms, they send you extremely large checks within extremely large care packages.
This morning my uncle Kevin posted a photo of my grandmother on Facebook with the caption Abby Kaelin 4/20/1917---9/2/1980 (9/02/80 was the Zip Code Day for South Gate, California, FYI), exactly 30 years ago. That made me kind of sad. But then I thought that it's reeeeeeally sad for my daddy and his brothers, and then thinking of my daddy sad mad me even sadder.
Really, I don't like to think about what I might have missed out on because that's pretty much a non-productive waste of energy. So instead, I've decided I'm going to spoil myself today because, probably, my grandmothers would have, right? I never got those cookies in the mail, or those blank checks for the NYU registrar (I swear that happened to a roommate ... who writes a $30,000 check???), or back-to-school shoes. Of course, I can bake my own cookies, and I don't need any more shoes (although a blank check would be nice). So what can I do in order to celebrate the grandmother I never knew?
Well, I don't know much about Abby, but I hear she liked Scotch. Well, guess who else likes Scotch? And guess whose bottle of Laphroaig is just about empty? I think a proper trip to the liquor store might just be in order today.
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