Memories

Funny how pictures and other items can trigger strong memories and emotions, good and bad.  A picture of my Grandma makes me remember the delicious scalloped potatoes she used to make...how they smelled, how velvety-creamy and soft they tasted.  The things we used to talk about.  A picture of myself when I was skinny, about 6 years ago, standing in my bedroom.  How damn good it felt to be able to wear those skinny jeans, the tight t-shits, the cute bra and panty sets, and how active I used to be.  A piece of olive wood, shaped like an egg, painted with a beautiful flower and the word "Jerusalem" just below it, brings back memories from that week in Israel.  All of the sites we visited and learned about.  A clay pot with horses on it reminds me of my honeymoon in the 4 Corner's area in the US; how fun it was taking a road trip with my hubby and how free I felt, like a nomad, even if it was only for a few weeks.  A hand carved little jewellery box with mother of pearl inlay from Syria makes me remember the wonderful people that we met along our travels and wondering around in the ancient site of Palmyria, practically by ourselves, thinking about whose footsteps were here before mine.  Some of the memories are not so good....quite painful.

A wedding picture of my Grandma and Grandpa from 1969 has me remembering some painful stuff, that I have fought so hard to forget.  My Grandpa was not my biological grandfather.  He adopted my Mom and her brothers way back when.  Anyhow, this man was a very cruel and mean person when he wasn't drunk which was about 10% of the time that I had ever seen him.  For some reason, he always made sure to insult me.  I remember being a young child, 6 or 7, and him telling me "jeez you're an ugly kid".  I guess he though if he laughed while he said it, it made it better ?  Without fail, he made sure to tell me this opinion of me.  As I got older into my teens, he started remarking on how "big" I was getting and how ugly I was (can't forget the original insult), which is really fucked up because as a teen I can remember being 116-120 pounds, and quite slender, tiny actually.  As the years went on and I got bigger, the comments centralized on how "big" I was (size 16), "jeez you're getting big".  I thought well, at least there's finally some fucking truth to what this prick is saying.  

At one point in my life, I bought a horse.  I can remember being so excited, this was truly a dream come true for me.  As a child all I ever wanted was a horse - "A horse, a horse!  My kingdom for a horse!"  I remember telling my Grandma that I had bought a horse and how happy she was for me, especially since a love of horses had "bitten" my Great-Grandmother, Grandma, my Mom and myself.  She was even more excited when I told her I planned on showing my horse (which I later did do).  Stories of her youth, horses and parades were shared with me.  She even gave me a crown she had gotten one year from one of the rodeo parades she was in.  Yup, great memories there.  

Grandpa, not so much.  He seemed like he didn't care or couldn't care.  I can't actually remember what he said or if he even said anything at this time, but I do remember what he said a few years later.  It was at my graduation ceremony.  Two and a half years of busting my ass working full time, attending school part time, showing my horse and later breeding her and keep the foal (it was a lot of work!), all the while maintaining an "A" average.  I was pretty proud of myself.  I had worked really hard.  Grandpa came to the ceremony half drunk, my Grandma shooting lots of "shut the hell up looks" every second she got seemed to keep him at bay for a short while.  Until I found myself alone with him for a moment and he took his chance.  He asked me if I still had "that horse".  Eager to have any kind of conversation with Grandpa that might turn out positive, I replied that I did still have her and was about to tell him my show plans for her, when he cut me off and said that he "felt sorry for the horse" and snickered then laughed at me.  I tell you, it was so hard to choke back those tears and keep up the happy face so I wouldn't ruin things for my Grandma and my Mom who were so very proud of me.  That night I remember crying myself to sleep.  I just could not figure out what his problem was, why he seemed to despise me so much.  All I ever wanted was a relationship with my Grandpa.  It was comments like that that made me not want to visit my Grandma very much because his insults became so very impossible to forget.  

The first words out of his mouth during East one year were, "Jeeze, you're getting to be as big as an amazon......jeeze you're big".  I remember suddenly losing my appetite and just wanted to sink away.  I sat at the table choking back tears and picking at my plate.  It is one thing when a stranger comments about your weight, but when a family member comments about it and is so cruel, it is so much more painful and devastating to your soul.  

When he died, I wrote him a letter and put it into his pocket and said good-bye.  I told him I hoped he would finally get the peace he so very much wanted and that I was sorry we did not get a chance to know each other as Grandfather and Granddaughter; something that I had always longed for so very much.  Sometimes, I can hear his words like he is standing right behind me.

To top off my shitty memory day, my Mother asks if I'm "allowed" to have Japanese food yet.  I explain that I can not have rice just as yet (I will eventually, but not for another several weeks) but could eat the meat and veggies that are well done and potatoes that can be mashed up.  She decides to point out that potatoes are fattening, rice is better for me and I'd "better not gain back the weight that I've lost".  Gee, thanks for the confidence Mom......FAIL, EPIC FAIL.