Grandmother and Me


There is something interesting about the way relationships evolve.

My grandmother and I are strangers.

I have not always favored her mannerism.

She can be bluntly rude.

She can be annoyingly nosy.

She finds my cold, quiet attitude a bit daunting.


Yet this woman has been able to change our relationship around.

She nudged me the other.

She said she has been forgetful lately; forgets to turn off the fire on the stove after she cooks.

“Can you give me a call every night to remind me to check my stove and other electric appliances?”

She gave me the “I’m a frail, helpless lady look.”

I conceded.


I’m a person of my word.

I called her every night for 2 week straight.

I became her alarm clock.

Every time I called, the first thing she would say was, “Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine. I checked my stove. I turned off the fire.”

Calling her became a chore by the end of the second week.

Our conversations dwindled.

I didn’t want our phone calls to feel like another obligation.

I already had too much of those.

So didn’t call her one night.

She never followed-up with me to ask me why I didn’t call her.

Four days passed.

I suddenly thought of her Sunday morning.

I suddenly missed her.

I picked up the phone and called her.

We talked like old friends.



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