Jul 06 2007
Gramma D
Flashback Friday, Gentle Readers!
(Thanks, by the way, to everyone who has left comments on my last post. On Monday or Tuesday I’ll write a follow-up to it. In the meantime, I’d love for everyone to throw in their 2 cents. And guys! I haven’t yet had a GUY leave a comment and I’d really love to hear your point of view there too!)
Today’s Flashback Friday is one that I’m not even sure I’m ready to talk about. But here goes.
When Hubby and I were engaged, we were poor. Very poor. We needed a place to live. It was arranged that we could live with my Gramma D. For free. In her basement. We would be required to earn our keep, so to speak, by doing odd-jobs for her. She was nearly 100 years old at the time and had been wheelchair bound for forty years by that point, so there were lots of things she’d love for us to help her with. She was a millionairess, but it never occurred to her to HIRE someone to help her with things. She just usually guilt-tripped family or neighbors or the church into helping her with stuff. So it would be handy to have us there as her on-call slaves.
Hubby and me with Gramma D
Here’s the thing with my Grandma. She was not only extremely demanding, overly critical, impossible to please, manipulative, racist, and self-righteous, but she’d also made it clear from the beginning of my life that she did. not. like me. So why I thought that this would work out, I have no idea. But we were poor. Oh my gosh, we were so poor, and we had to live SOMEWHERE! Hubby was still in school full-time and I was working my butt off at a job where I was making just over minimum wage, paying for his schooling and our living expenses.
Gramma D at our wedding
I tried to get along with her. I tried every possible approach. My parents said that no one had ever broken through her shell as much as I had. Some days we got along and I made her laugh. I had a knack for making her laugh–it was my saving grace. Still, she loved to tell people how awful I was and even occasionally how abusive I was and how I took advantage of her, and so on.
Fortunately, she liked Hubby. She probably wondered why he had stooped so low as to marry someone as wretched and disgusting as me, and she likely judged him quite harshly for that, but otherwise she loved him. And since he hadn’t grown up with her, he didn’t carry all the baggage about her that I did. So that helped us all to co-exist.
We lived there for three years–I gave birth to my first two babies right there in her house. The hardest time was probably when Princess Fluffy was about 7 months old and I was already pregnant with Bubba. That’s just way too many hormones and emotions rolled into one human being, and living with a woman who thought I was a terrible mother and didn’t know anything about caring for my baby was very difficult.
One day she decided that I had made the floor dirty (in a room that I never went in, that had rotting linoleum floors that weren’t “dirty” they were just worn out and needed to be replaced!) and so she demanded that I get down on my hands and knees and scrub. I was pregnant. I had a crawling baby who kept trying to drink up the cleanser on the floor, etc. She sat in her chair and watched me, criticizing every stroke I made with the scrubbing brush. “Gramma, this floor is not going to get clean. It’s scratched. Scrubbing it will not make it look any better, no matter how hard I scrub.” She wouldn’t believe it. I just sucked at cleaning. She couldn’t believe I sucked so bad at cleaning. She would have to call all of her friends and let them know.
So, that’s Flashback Friday, friends! We will probably revisit Gramma D stories again in the future. There’s lots of blog-fodder here….
35 Responses to “Gramma D”
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Oooooh man. Poor Brillig. I felt so bad for you through that whole time.
I had one encounter with Grandma D that I remember vividly . . . when we went to Girl’s Preference . . . but I’ll let you tell that story. She was definitely not a very nice person.
My heart still breaks for you and what you went through there. I can imagine that writing about it isn’t easy either. Cyber hugs for you, and points in heaven for putting up with her for so long!
Love you!
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Ehhh, you know. I’m over it. It doesn’t torment me every day or anything. The reason I’m not quite ready to talk about it is because I’m not quite sure how honest to be about my feelings! I mean, she’s dead, and I’m ripping on her. Hahaha. There’s just something so wrong about that!
Wow. What a harsh woman to be with. Live with. I wouldn’t have lasted 3 hours.
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Well, I think I stopped “living” after about the first three hours! From then on I was just “surviving” but not really “living”!!
Maybe a little wrong - but just because she died doesn’t take away all the things she did!
I’ve never had to deal with anything quite like that. But when The Man knocked Cari up, her family insisted that they get married (they’re Catholic). So he did and they lived with HER grandma. He basically wasn’t allowed in the house. Her grandma thought that because he had a baby at home, he should NEVER stop working. One job just wasn’t enough. He should have TWO…and if he still had time to rest, he should do something for HER. I know that she -from the very start - made him question whether he was a good provider - even a good dad. That just isn’t cool. It’s not like she produced any saints!
btw, goregeous pictures!
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No, not cool at all. Poor guy. And you’re right. Being dead doesn’t remove all of the crap she did. It just feel weird to bash on the deceased!
So you’re saying you didn’t get along with her.
Sadly, she sounds familiar…
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Yup, Millie, you picked up on that vibe I guess. hahaha. (And sorry she sounds familiar!!!)
As a complete outsider, all I can say is ‘Whatever doesn’t break you, makes you stronger’.
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You’re so right. It was very hard, but I learned an awful lot. And looking back, I’m even sorta grateful! At least it gives me something to whine about and since I LOVE to whine, it’s all good.
Wow, what a witch. I can’t say I would have survived that!
My goodness! At first I looked only at the photos and thought awww I miss my Grandma. All three of you look so happy. You and your Hubby make such a beautiful couple!
After reading about your Grandma YIKES! That had to be a difficult living situation. Glad it did not last longer.
Like Mamasworld, I thought was going to be about your sweet Gramma D. Wrong! She looks very sweet. But I know that looks can definitely be deceiving. It stinks that living with her was so hard.
I don’t understand why there are people in the world that make it so hard to get along with them. You try to please them and they just see the worst in everything you do.
Now that I look at the pictures again, yeah, I can totally see the evil aura radiating off of her. =P
Three years of that?! Now that’s why I don’t believe in Karma. No way you ever did anything bad enough to deserve that!
And if you did, you better blog about it, chicka!
That is a sad story. And to think! She looks so harmless!
My grandmother lived with us for much of my young life. I was so attached to her. I thought I would die if I couldn’t have her constantly with me! When I was about four, she would sometimes go babysit at neighbor’s houses, and I would go door to door looking for her. I used to admire a ring she had that she had and she would always say, “When I die, you can have it.” The very idea of her dying just about killed me!
But when I became a teenager, she turned mean. (And I was not a bad kid, either… not a troublemaker at all.) She started harrassing me about everything. Accusing me of being drunk if I came in late. (Her ex hubby was a drunk.) She’d stand at the door waiting for my parents to come home in the evening so she could tell them how I REFUSED to do the dishes after dinner (when she would hop up and do them so fast, you couldn’t see her). It was not fun. I began to despise her very existence.
She died the year my first child was born. I was twenty-one and living in California. She was in Kansas. The whole family went to see her in the hospital. My husband wouldn’t let me go. (Well, yeah, it is a free country, and I could have gone, but you know… we won’t go into that.) ANYWAY, they were all there when she died and I honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass.
But she did say, “Be sure Teri gets her ring.”
Your Gramma D and my Gramma D would have been great friends.
They should have started a bowling league together so they could bitch about their lazy grand daughters.
When will the similarities end??
Oh wait, you have a million kids and I have a dog.
I guess that’s where.
Um, wow. NOT at all what I was expecting to read.
Sounds like she was a joy (ha!) to be around. Can’t wait to hear more!
I guess looks can be deceiving!
I absolutely adore elderly people. It breaks my heart to think of them sitting a lone in a nursing home. If only your grandma knew how lucky she was to have family that continually tried to please her. Even when she didn’t deserve it.
For a moment I thought I was reading about my mother!
I think I remember you referring to Gramma D (although you may not have called her that) in another post a while back. It was a brief reference but enough for me to remember that she was not a very nice person (well either I remember it or I’m crazy for thinking I know about things I don’t).
In any event, kudos for you for tolerating and dealing with her. I can’t imagine it would be easy but it takes a strong person to survive times like that.
Which I believe you are, Brill.
I think people forget that just because someone is old, it doesn’t mean they can’t be a jerk. We know lots of jerky people our age, many of them will age into jerky geriatrics.
It just sucks when they’re OUR jerky geriatrics.
If I get that way when I’m old I hope there is someone around to kick my ass.
I wonder what made her so hateful? Hmmmm…?
Whiskeymarie has it right on the button. People tend to assume old people ‘get’ sweetness like they get grey hair and wrinkles. But if they were mean, devious young and middle-aged people, they’re going to stay just the same with a little bit more meanness because obviously they’ve got the added hate of knowing they’re going to die soon. Well done for not re-enacting any of the bits from Psycho. Just knowing you via cyberspace is an honour.
OH my, I don’t know how you did it. I can’t handle caustic behavior, especially when it’s where you LIVE!
Oh, my word. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale.
I can handle a bit of disdain, maybe even some contempt if I’ve done something that might make someone think (however wrongly) that I deserved it. But for no reason? Except that I was breathing and within earshot? I don’t think so.
Says a lot about you and hubby that you were able to resist the overwhelming urge to club her while she slept. Ooops! Was that my outside voice?
It is really difficult living with someone who is verbally abusive and manipulative.
Hopefully you’ve come out stronger for it and with a determination never to treat others the same way.
wow, Brillig that could be my nan! ( Who is still alive but probably doesn’t read your blog since she wouldn’t even know how to turn a computer on!) She’s hated me since the day I was born - I think maybe cause I resemble my mum (fair, not dark)
she says really mean things to me too - for example the last cutting thing she said was that blonde babies were simply not cute (all my kids were blonde at the time…although they’re slowly getting darker)
The idea of you scrubbing the floor pregnant while your nan complains all the while is just HIDEOUS!!!
Ok, well I do know that some people show love through critisism. Jeez, I don’t know how to spell that word. Anyway.
Also, in her day she probably thought nothing of cleaning the floor on her hands and knees while pregnant. Or at least other women of her generation wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Sometimes I think of how hard my life is, and then I think of hard life was for women even just 50 years ago. Whatever did they do without a Swiffer?
It sounds like you must have had a great respect for her- doing as she asked of you, even as she mistreated you. And how special that your children were born there! Were they actually born at home? That is pretty much my wet dream. =)
This post got me thinking of how complex family relationships are. So many layers!
Wow…Mommy, or in this case Granny Dearest in the flesh. I wonder what happened in her life that made her so mean spirited….hmmmm.
Oh, that is so tough. I can’t believe she made you get on your hands and knees and scrub that floor. She has such a sweet face in the photos, I thought this post was going to be about how much you miss her, how wonderful she was, etc. etc. Uh…no.
I hope there was a moment when she realized how she was behaving and felt bad about it. It must be horrible to approach life always critical. You lose perspective about how wonderful the world really is. As unhappy as she made you, she was probably a thousand times more unhappy just being herself.
I can’t believe you haven’t started a novel yet. You have so many characters to base it on it would be a shame if you didn’t!
Ouch and double ouch. I like casmee’s idea of writing a novel, but Gramma sounds so bad that people wouldn’t think it’s realistic. “This Gramma D character is WAY over the top . . . Besides, this is cliche–ever heard of Cinderella?” (Yeah, but SHE wasn’t pregnant with a baby on the floor . . .)
You’re not “bashing on the deceased”. You’re just telling the truth. There is a difference!
If this helps…”One owes respect to the living. To the dead, one owes only the truth.” (Yeah, if all else fails, I go with Voltaire!)
Actually, I’m a firm believer in telling the honest stories, no matter how difficult they may be. (And believe me, I’ve got some stories…) For the teller, it’s like pulling an abscessed tooth, and for the reader, it’s hearing from someone who may have gone through the same experience.
It speaks volumes about your character that you dealt with that so gracefully under such trying circumstances!
jerkiatrics? I wonder what her heart was like, if it was a lump of coal. I wonder if she ever loved anyone
I think constant complaining and criticizing somehow translates into extra-long life. I need to figure out how that works in a few decades. Does the wheelchair come first, do you think?
Wow! And in those photos she looks so sweet and gentle. Was she cursing the person taking the photo? Jeez!
OMG you must be very strong to have lasted 3 years. I know I couldn’t have done it. I would have been tempted to slip her a little arsenic..hee hee. Not enough to kill her, just a bit to make her suffer (j/k). I am so glad my kids are EXTREMELY close to my mom. They love their grandma and there is nothing we wouldn’t do for her. When it is time for her to go to heaven, it will break our hearts for sure.
sorry also wanted to mention your wedding pic is beautiful. Thanks for sharing.
I can’t believe that you lasted for 3 years with your mean grandma. That truly sounds like something out of Cinderella. Did you ever figure out why she didn’t like you?
You have the most interesting stories to tell. I always need a large slot of time when I come here because I get so caught up in your writing.
I’m so sorry you had to endure that. The linoleum story broke my heart!
And may I say, your wedding photo is gorgeous. You are as beautiful as I had imagined! (this is the first time I have seen all of you in a photo I think!) WOW!
I was 8 months pregnant at my wedding, and swollen as all get out, so not many people see those photos.
It always makes me wonder when I meet crochety old people just what they might have been like as younger people when their eyes worked, and the hearing was sharp, and the bones didn’t ache. But since I know so many who grow old with such grace and gentleness, I have come to believe that age only enhances our inner being. If we were a bitch to start, I think we are a bitch to the end. Perhaps there is exception to this theory, but I am going with it and I think I wouldn’t have wanted to hang out with your Grandma D at ANY POINT in her life.
She’s just mean.
And you, darling Brillig, are indeed beautiful!