Today on the drive into work, I was thinking about how much I was going to miss buying Jeff's grandmother her Christmas present this year.
She died this past May, after living the last few years in a nursing home. Violet was my favorite type of Baptist; the kind who goes to church every Sunday after spending the rest of the week drinking and dancing. She was a good Louisiana Baptist and her drink of choice was Crown and Coke.
Of course, living in a nursing home, alcohol was strictly forbidden. I loved to buy her a photo box or a memory box (she had letters and cards that needed storing, so she could always use these) and hide a small bottle of Crown Royal and a 20 oz bottle of Coca Cola in for her. The first year, I put boxes of note cards on top and wrapped the Crown in a pretty scarf for her. After that, I would buy a stuffed Christmas toy at the dollar store (a snowman, a reindeer, a gingerbread man, etc.), open the seam in the back of the doll, remove the stuffing, and restuff it with the bottle of booze. The last year I did this, it was Santa Clause with a little note pinned to him that said, "Turn me over to find the spirit of Christmas!" When you looked at his back, the label of the bottle inside showed clearly.
Violet loved this and told me so every time she saw me. Jeff, however, accused me of corrupting the elderly. I pointed out that for decades, his grandmother had been the talk of the town in Zwolle, Louisiana and was far more likely to be a corrupting force on me than the other way around.
Last year, I bought a little snowman doll to fill with Christmas spirit, but Violet was ill and Jeff said not to buy her the Crown Royal because he didn't think it would be appropriate. I figured that if this would be her last Christmas, it was more appropriate than ever, but I deferred to him since she was his grandmother and not mine.
That silly little snowman was sitting in my living room grinning at me this morning, and I wanted to kick myself for listening to him. Violet didn't like following the rules, either. Even though she would not have been able to drink the Crown, having it next to her bed squirreled away where the nurses couldn't find it would have given her a charge.
I'll raise a glass of Crown and Coke to Violet's memory this year, and give the snowman to my year-old son and tell him it's from his great grandmother.
Here's to the Spirit of Christmas, and the way it burns your throat a little when it goes down and makes you feel warm inside.
She died this past May, after living the last few years in a nursing home. Violet was my favorite type of Baptist; the kind who goes to church every Sunday after spending the rest of the week drinking and dancing. She was a good Louisiana Baptist and her drink of choice was Crown and Coke.
Of course, living in a nursing home, alcohol was strictly forbidden. I loved to buy her a photo box or a memory box (she had letters and cards that needed storing, so she could always use these) and hide a small bottle of Crown Royal and a 20 oz bottle of Coca Cola in for her. The first year, I put boxes of note cards on top and wrapped the Crown in a pretty scarf for her. After that, I would buy a stuffed Christmas toy at the dollar store (a snowman, a reindeer, a gingerbread man, etc.), open the seam in the back of the doll, remove the stuffing, and restuff it with the bottle of booze. The last year I did this, it was Santa Clause with a little note pinned to him that said, "Turn me over to find the spirit of Christmas!" When you looked at his back, the label of the bottle inside showed clearly.
Violet loved this and told me so every time she saw me. Jeff, however, accused me of corrupting the elderly. I pointed out that for decades, his grandmother had been the talk of the town in Zwolle, Louisiana and was far more likely to be a corrupting force on me than the other way around.
Last year, I bought a little snowman doll to fill with Christmas spirit, but Violet was ill and Jeff said not to buy her the Crown Royal because he didn't think it would be appropriate. I figured that if this would be her last Christmas, it was more appropriate than ever, but I deferred to him since she was his grandmother and not mine.
That silly little snowman was sitting in my living room grinning at me this morning, and I wanted to kick myself for listening to him. Violet didn't like following the rules, either. Even though she would not have been able to drink the Crown, having it next to her bed squirreled away where the nurses couldn't find it would have given her a charge.
I'll raise a glass of Crown and Coke to Violet's memory this year, and give the snowman to my year-old son and tell him it's from his great grandmother.
Here's to the Spirit of Christmas, and the way it burns your throat a little when it goes down and makes you feel warm inside.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-06 11:09 pm (UTC)I've never had a problem breaking rules that I thought were stupid.