I remember my cranky
grandma in the moments she wasn't
cranky. Was it just me who could ever see her like that? Was it so rare for the rest of them?
Conflict that didn't ever end. Police scanner in her kitchen, by the fridge. So she could keep on top of who was in trouble in a one-cow town. Did she make me stay in to listen to it while she worked in the garden, or did I imagine that?
She has always been old even in the young pictures. I think she left my mother for a while but I've never been clear on that story.
I do not remember anything she wore although I spent hours with her, watching her drop bread dough on the floured counter and hit it and drop it again.
I remember her deep freeze full of what? I wasn't allowed to look in. What could she have needed all that space for, she lived alone. I could not ever imagine her as part of a family, as a face anyone might see every day.