So I don’t normally write a blog without a comic, but my Grandpa died today so I thought I should write down one of my favorite stories about him:
***
It all started back in high school when my brother met a girl named Claire. She was evil and awful. They got married, which was a horrible idea. I don’t support marriage, and this story is simply laced with it. So you know it must be a good one for me to like it so much.
Anyways, my brother and the devil woman thankfully decided to get a divorce. The event was traumatic enough as it was, but it came to the point where we needed to tell my rather traditional 89-year-old grandfather the bad (read good) news. He was in frail shape as he had suffered from Parkinson’s Disease for many years so they were not sure how he would take it. He married young to my grandmother Shirley and they stayed married until the day she died a few years ago.
My parents broke it gently as possible – Dad, we need to tell you something. Adam and Claire are getting a divorce.
Grandpa was silent for a while – a result of his condition, but in this case it was difficult to know for sure. He responded coolly after a moment:
“Well I have something I need to tell you. I met a girl. I’m sweet on her and we want to get married.”
Now my parents were the ones at a loss for words. My grandfather lived in a group home with 6 other elderly women – some fairly with it, and some who wore lipstick for eyebrows. One woman, many years younger than him, had suffered a stoke which left her in a condition that needed constant care. This is how she met my heartbreaker grandpa.
Of course this tale is bizarre as it is, my grandfather remarrying at 89, but there are a few other details which made it stranger than fiction. The two lovebirds were wed on the anniversary of my grandmother’s death. We happily didn’t remind grandpa of this. And the woman’s name? Shirley. Seeing the pale blue and white cake with “Congratulations, Russ and Shirley!” scribed upon it was an odd sight indeed.
The wedding day came and of course I was photographer. My parents were happy to see the marrige finally come as they had been dealing with Shirley’s religious-alcoholic-insane family in the months leading up to the big day. At one point my dad was trapped in the garage with one of Shirley’s children, who proceeded to cry in my father’s arms for a while. I’m not sure what it was about, but probably a person who does something as socially inappropriate as that has more than one reason for tears. Also, one of the crazier ladies of the home asked my brother something about his penis. I’m not going to press my memory for what it was exactly, if you don’t mind.
Russ and the new Shirley rolled up to the alter in style: matching blue wheelchairs and flowed corsages. Pretty much everything that happened from that moment made me sob like my father at the end of Field of Dreams. I come from a family of criers, don’t judge. Note: its hard to take pictures when your eyes are full of tears because those to be wed need to be physically held closer together in order to get that ‘I Do’ smooch.
Although it was a day filled with mild panic attacks for me because I have an irrational fear of really old people, it was an adorable event and a success (even if the marriage wasn’t official because it would mess up their social security allotments).
I can only deduce from this that scandal just runs in the Willis family. I love you Grandpa, and I’ll miss you.
Russ and Shirley Gettin' Hitched
Your Friend,
Katy
