There was a day last week when I was feeling a little tired. Jay got home after work and after glancing at me blurted out a comment. His timing was off only because I was tired but he said, "You are looking a lot like your grandmother."
"My mom's mother?" I asked.
"Yes," he responded.
"How would you know? You didn't meet her. I didn't meet her. She past away right before I was born?"
"I've seen pictures," he said.
"The only pictures we have are when she was old. We don't have any when she was younger. You're saying I look like an old grandmother?"
I could tell from his face that he knew this wasn't going well. He tried to stutter and stammer his way out of it but that (of course) only made it worse. There was no avenue of escape. He tried to make it sound more complimentary. He made it sound like he was only making a reference to how my Italian ancestry was showing through. He even tried to say I looked like her when she was young which he knew he had no way of knowing. But he tried...and I happened to be tired so we both knew the conversation was going nowhere.
It wasn't until later, after letting it go, that I started thinking about my grandmother. I never knew any of my grandparents. They were all gone by the time I came around. It wasn't sad because I didn't know any different. I only had old pictures of people I didn't know and only a few of those. I got my grandmothers name, Concetta, which I love (Theresa was supposed to be a middle name). I was told if she hadn't past away when my mother was pregnant with me she wouldn't have allowed the name. She was hoping for a girl after my mom had my three older brothers. At least that was what I was told. I never got to meet her.
She must have been a little stubborn if she wasn't going to allow the name. She must have been strong to have had eight children. I don't know much about her. I can only imagine the amount of work she must have done every day. They had a general store and a dairy farm and settled in the south after coming from Italy. She must have had so many things to do. I don't know if she liked to read. I wonder. I only have a few pictures and not too much information about her.
The thing is I will be a grandmother soon. If I am looking like my grandmother it's probably because that is where I am right now. But I don't think I fit exactly into that grandmother mold. I didn't think I was looking quite like a grandmother when Jay pointed it out. I don't have doubts about my age, certainly not, but that imagine of what a grandmother is supposed to look like, to act like? I drive a two-seater convertible. I spend lots of time alone. I run miles with no one chasing me and I always have a book I'm reading.
Maybe it feels odd because I don't know what a grandmother is really supposed to be like since I never had one. Will I miss the mark?
I don't really think that will be the case. I don't think I have to fit the classic type of what a grandmother is supposed to look like or even act like when it comes to cars and hobbies. I don't think there will be a smidgen of a problem but it crosses my mind when it's brought up. So maybe the grandmother Jay saw in me wasn't so much about looks or maybe it was. I don't know and it doesn't matter.
The fact that I will be here when it happens and a little one won't be thinking many, many years later what I was like. I might actually be able to give him some stories to tell...about his grandmother. How she ran miles with no one chasing her and drove a tiny car, how she was always reading books. Who knows?
Maybe I am starting to look like my grandmother.
TT
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