ninanevermore

Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the story about Violet that I really wanted to tell yesterday, but couldn't before I gave some background on her. That same afternoon after her funeral, my brother-in-law told a story about his grandparents that I thought gave a wonderful snapshot of the two of them. Snapshots can be deceiving, though, when you don't know exactly what you are looking at.

Without knowing a little bit about Violet, the snapshot I am about to show you would like it a picture of betrayal featuring an unfaithful wife, her cuckold husband, and a son of a bitch. Knowing the history of the people involved, though, forces you to view these three from a different angle. It changes the picture to that of a damaged woman, and her husband as a dignified man who did his best to do right by her. The son of a bitch is still a son of a bitch, I regret to say. Some people are lousy no matter where you look at them from.

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( Through the Eyes of A Child )

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.

Weather: Cloudy. Moisty. Yucky.

Today at the stoplight, I felt the Carny slowing the wheel one more time. My car was at the top of the ferris wheel, so I feel safe, but I know someone in a car at the bottom who is getting ready to disembark. The ferris wheel is slowing, slowing slowing. The rider has been at this carnival for 92 years, it's time for her to go home. Still, I was hoping He would give her another spin, at least until Jeff and I could make it to Louisiana later this month to see her, to show her the Great Grandson she's been longing to visit with.

Damn.

The light changed, and I passed the point where I am aware of the Cosmic Ferris Wheel. It was still slowing, but not stopping. Will have to see where it is tomorrow. Maybe the Carney can be bribed, but I doubt it.

Most Carney's, but not this Carney. Cosmic Carney's are a different breed all together.