Thinkin'

I've gone a bit thinky. I spoke to my parternal Grammy a night or so ago. I haven't spoke to her since I was 9. We have written quite a bit before my fingers went daft, but upon my vacation return I heard she'd had a heart attack and I called up instantly, from the phone card we'd purchased on vacation, we don't carry long distance service at the house.

She was stunned to hear my voice, and a bit unsure how to speak to me which is easy since I domonate most converstations. She sounded very young. Her heart attack is ok, but she can't smoke which pisses her off, I understand.

I have never lost love for my Gram, she cares a lot but has some pretty shitty thoughts about my mother, which I cannot dig, and I told her so. She explained her side, that she felt mom took us from them, and I explained mom did what mom felt mom needed to do and that talking poorly of her would be politely pissed on. No one gets to talk shit about my mother. Like ever. She tried. And if she fucked up decisions, so be it. But I was pretty up front about no shit talking my mother. Gram understood that it would be the difference between 20 years of silence, or a hello to her grandaughter.

I am supposed to phone my father soon. I can't day I don't want to, but I can say he is not my dad in the sense of who I am. My step father, who I always call pop in this site, is my father. He had no idea how to deal with a little girl like me, so unruly and obstinant. He is a good man. Not one of many words, but a very good one.

-DM