The thing about being so old, so ancient was the way that people started treating you. They bade goodbye to you silently in their scheming black hearts, writing you off as a sooner rather than a later case, told everyone in your neighborhood that you weren’t up to doing anything anymore, forcibly (and rather evilly, I think) making you take your afternoon nap, while eying your good crockery all the time. The world is a cruel place for the weak. But no matter how old they all insist you are, or how weak, the thing is, that at the end of it, the heart still beats with the enthusiasm of the youth and one feels the same freedom of 16.
No man, or woman for that matter, however well-intentioned, understood this. And so was the case with my granddaughter, who happened to visit on the afternoon before my 93rd birthday.
“No buts, Granma...” she warned me as she handed me my 12 o’ clock medicines.
“But... “I protested, not willing to give up without a struggle.
“You will take this and this and this ... “she said, jabbing at the blue, pink and red capsules lying innocently on her palm, “and you will take them NOW.” She finished, in her don’t-mess-with-me tone of voice.
Sighing, I did as asked of me.
Her gaze softened now. “Oh c’mon, Granma, don’t sulk now”, she chided me gently.
“I am not sulking.” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster. I watched her from my place at the head of the old table. She frowned with the effort as she worked, sorting out my ironed clothes into neat little bundles. Already six months pregnant, and still slaving it out. Without a word of protest or any hint of resentment. My heart melted.
“Sit.” I said, smiling at the young girl. She smiled in response, not pausing in her work.
“Can’t, Granma, have to have you sorted a little early today.” At my questioning glance, she added,” Its Cousin Berta’s birthday party. Its’ her first, since, well...” she cleared her throat, pausing for a minute, and then overcoming her emotion, continued with her brisk cleaning. “So, you see, we have to have you all done before that.”I said nothing.
Ah, Berta. Poor kid. My memories rushed back to that scene nearly 65 years ago.
*************
It was a still house, as I tiptoed in, still in the early hours of the morning. I had been out on a conference for the last week, and was hoping to surprise Rob, my as always unsupportive husband.
It was not my fault that I found him in bed with my cousin!
Although, later everyone seemed to act like it was. Really, life was so unfair .Berta’s mother had been a real beauty at the time, with beautiful copper brown, flawless skin and the outrageously flirtatious nature of hers. Looking back, I suppose, it had been my own stupidity that prevented me from seeing the signs. Or maybe it was love. Who knows?
Cousin Ree, it turned out was in love .with MY husband. But Ree in love was a phenomenon that didn’t happen very often, so much so that people seemed to overlook the fact that it WAS my husband they were talking about.
I remember the conversation I had had with my parents, that night.
“Ree is in love! “
“So what, ma?
Why is that such a big deal..?”
Then my ma had sat me down and given me a lecture that made me realize for the very first time, how very alone I really was.
“Gigi, you have got to understand, that your father and I, we took Ree in when she was barely 5, fresh from the loss of her mother. It is our responsibility to ensure her happiness.” Said my mother, which was predictable. It always, always started like this.
“There are affairs that she has had, but nothing like this! They have been wastrels, who have broken her heart everytime.This is her only chance. How can you want to take this from her?” said my father.
“Why does it always have to be about her?”
“It is about both of you, Gigi. You are older to her, you should understand! “
“How can you be so cruel? Not even thinking of your daughters’ happiness!”
“How dare you!” My father had admonished.”We are thinking of both our daughters!”
“No, you only think of her!” I had sobbed.
“Look, at you gigi...you have a career, a house, a car. You can have any guy you want! It is not like you and Rob were soul mates or anything. You wouldn’t have lasted, he wanted a baby and the doctor said that you wouldn’t conceive also!”, my mother tried to explain.
I stared at her. “What does that have anything to do with it?”
“Think of it positively, Gigi. Rob and Ree can both have what they want.”
I remember how miserable I had been, and how tired of it all.
“He is MY HUSBAND. Not some doll that you pass on from one person to the other…” I had screamed.
“And he has made his choice.” My ma had told me.
And he had.
Rob got married to Ree a barely a week after the divorce came through.
They had one child, whom they named Berta Ree Thomas, after her mother who passed away in childbirth.
