A Day in the Life With Gam

Hello from Arkansas! Where the moisture seeped into my body even as the plane was landing yesterday. My hair is frizzing from here to there but I'll take it simply because I don't go through a bottle of lotion a day here. My face looks less reptilian. I wouldn't want this level of humidity all the time but for a few days? Thumbs up.

It's not Denver...but it's not bad. :)

Gama and I have been busy catching up. Today has brought to mind how much my personality is...crafted, shall we say, by this woman. Here's a peek into our time together.

I stay at a hotel just down the road from her house because - it's a long story - that's just the easiest thing to do. So, when she left last night, we made plans to meet up at 8:00 this morning. I got up at 5:00 (yes, 5:00) in order to work on lesson planning stuff for next semester, and at SIX THIRTY she called me from downstairs in the lobby. As in, here. As in, ready to go. As in an hour and a half early. I made her come up to the room while I changed from my pj's into real clothes, and we were out the door by 7:00.

In other words, we left a full hour before we were even scheduled to meet.

Very, very tired at breakfast.

For the blog's 2.5 faithful readers, all of whom know me personally, you've probably noticed I'm usually on time. Like, everywhere. Like, really on time. I don't remember anyone explicitly teaching me to be this way, but I spent a good portion of my developmental years with my grandparents and they were never late. They were where they said they would be, when they said they would be there. This was not only out of respect for other peoples' time, but also I think this was one of the many ways that they were honest. They meant what they said when they made plans.

Consequently, even to this day, if I arrive just on schedule, I feel late. Like, late to the point of feeling anxious and rushed and discombobulated. I only feel "right" (Lord, help me) if I'm somewhere a few minutes early. I blame Gama and Papa 100% for this neurotic behavior that is entirely out of place in my own generation.

After breakfast, we drove all over the state running errands, and then visited her sister for a few hours. Gama would kill me dead if she knew I had taken these pictures, but isn't she beautiful? She's a very good listener. And she's a very interactive communicator. She'll nod and "mm hmm" and "oh, really?" right along with whatever you're saying.

I may or may not have inherited her hand gestures.

Again, she would skin me alive if she knew her picture was plastered on the internet. And if she knew what the internet was. This picture explains why my front-row students sometimes dodge when I'm teaching. I can get a little...over active when I talk. Their eyes widen and they lean back a bit when I really get into paragraph organization or analytical strategies. Whatever.

In the afternoon we ran more errands and went to visit more people. I was basically a glorified chauffeur. I would drive and she would point here and there to places she wanted to "stop by" and we'd hang her handicapped tag in the rental and park right up front, which is totes something I could get used to by the way.

We got back to my room around 5:00 tonight and I flung myself down on the bed while she munched on the complimentary cookies. A lot of our conversations go like this:

Gam: Remember Willy Gibbs?

Me: Blank stare.

Gam: You know, Colveeta's husband? Ran the feed store back in '75?

Me: That was before I was born.

Gam: But remember him, though? The Skaggs' farmer boy who trained that horse and then bought one of Papa's dogs?

Me: Blank stare.

Gam: (Waving her hands) Anyway, he died.

It's so much work, just for the Death and Dying Report. While I was driving Miss Daisy, she opened up the paper to the obituaries and said, "No...let's see. No. No. Hmmmm, nope." Then folded it up neatly in her lap. "I don't know any of them today." <<eye roll emoji>> Our entire drive (read: entire day) was like an extended version of this conversation. So many dead people that I don't know.

A lot of our conversations also go like this:

Gam: He was telling me when we had lunch on Tuesday that - wait, was it Tuesday or Wednesday? Let's see, what's today?

Me: Wednesday.

Gam: Ok, then it must have been...let's see, no it wasn't Tuesday because I didn't go into town that day. It must have been Monday then.

Me: Blank stare.

Me: Gam? What was he telling you?

Gam: Oh. You remember Willy Gibbs?

Me: Blank stare.

I'm supposed to fly back tomorrow but Denver is getting slammed with snow. So, if my flight is going to be delayed or cancelled, my prayer is that I find out ahead of time. I'd rather spend extra time here with Gam than in the airport drinking tequila and lesson planning. Cross your fingers! The plane may be late, but we all know that I'LL be on time. :)