Monday, May 23, 2011


My cousin got married this past Saturday.

It was a lavish affair filled with the type of insanity that my mother's side of the family specializes in. My mother is the second eldest out of six girls. I get the feeling that Grandpop just wanted one son - instead he got six girls. Of the 20-something cousins I have on mom's side of the family, I only have three male cousins.

All that estrogen is bound to make a family wonky.

The affair was lavish, the food spectacular. I wore a dress, and high heels, and managed to completely girl myself out without looking like a drag queen gone wrong, so points to me for that (I think).

Despite it having been my cousin's wedding, my grandmother is the one who shone.

She's 81 years old, has hair that adds a good two and a half inches to her height, and is a complete and utter diva.

So there I was, sitting at a table with one of my few male cousins, drinking whiskey and making awkward small talk. That is, making awkward small talk until I saw Andrew's mouth gape open and his gaze focus on a point somewhere over my left shoulder.

I turned around, and felt my own jaw drop. I'm sure my eyes widened marginally as well.

There, on the dance floor, was the beloved matriarch of my family, the woman who believes in saving yourself for marriage and is one of the most respectable people I've ever met...that same woman...

Was dancing to Beyonce's Single Ladies.

Hand motions and everything.

She then followed that up with a glass of pinot and a cherry bomb. She thought the bomb was a delightful drink.

My grandmother? Is Fucking Awesome.

She partied late into the wee hours of the morning. I seriously think she keeps her husband, my grandfather, alive by sheer force of will.

You have to understand, my grandmother is a classy dame.

I don't have a single bad memory of either her or my grandfather, and their relationship is everything that I hope for in my future. They got married when she was 19 (so they've been together for about 62 years), and they're still crazy in love with each other. They're that little old couple at the park, sitting on a bench together, that couple that makes hearts melt at the mere sight of their presence.

Except Grandmom wouldn't be caught dead walking around in a park. No, she's more likely to drag Grandpop to the movies, or dancing.

Grandpop hates dancing, but does it anyways because Grandmom loves it.

I hope I inherit her genes.

1 comment:

  1. Wow. I'm kind of in love with your grandmother right now... Last time I spoke to my grandmother, I asked how she was and she went "Oh, you know. Sitting around, waiting to DIE..." I think she needs a dose of dancing to Single Ladies!


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