Different Grandmas

You were a child in a car,

your mother driving,

on a highway

You looked out the window

strip malls of stores packed with grown-up stuff,

and endless parking lots and hawking billboards,

steadily building up to multi-story buildings, glass towers,

then back to strip mall,

thinning out

a bridge, and more open space between the buildings

and houses,

wooded hills, and open fields

You arrived at these places

And before you could take them in

Before you could explore

Even for a moment

only with your eyes

The car had hurtled past

All of those moments of arriving and leaving

Piled on top of each other until you arrived

At your grandmother’s house

You were unsteady on your feet.

felt dizzy as you walked up the front path,

looked down at your feet,

Your grandmother asked, “How was the drive?”

You let out a yawn and a stream of vomit

down the front of your new yellow sundress

and onto your white patent leather shoes

            The Grandmas:

Loving Grandma sees this immediately embraces you without regard to the mess and the stench. She gives you a bear hug and tells you, “everything will be ok.”

Practical Grandma expresses concern, “you poor dear, let’s get you cleaned up.”  She ushers you to the outside spigot and hose, and proceeds to gently clean you up.

Easily Offended Grandma, “Oh well, it’s nice to see you too!  Some greeting you have there for your grandmother.  I suppose you have been saving that just for me.”

Horticulturist Grandma, “Aaaggh!  The petunias!  The acid in that mess is going to kill them.  Wait there!  I’ll get baking soda.”

Hard Livin’ Grandma, “I’d help you dearie, but I just lit this cigarette.”