Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

Floored

March 13, 2003 ... 9:14 a.m.

Floored

....

I wrote this last night, but Diaryland was down.

So. The phone rang earlier this evening. I answered. A woman with a distinctive southern drawl asked �Who is this?� Now, normally, I would�ve been like you called me--who are you? But I didn�t.

me: �This is Eibisch.�
Caller: �Eibisch? Eibisch, this is your Grandma Mae. Your daddy�s mom. Do you remember me?�
me: �Yes.�
GM: �I thought I�d try this number and see if y�all were still there. I haven�t talked to you in a while.�

Try 23 years. That was the freakiest phone call I�ve ever gotten. She lives in North Carolina. I haven�t seen her since I was 3, when my father took me there. I have one old photo of her and my step-grandfather--my �pawpaw�. I have one memory of her. I don�t remember her face, though. My father looks just like her. I look just like him.

I haven�t spoken to him since the night of my high school graduation. He showed up and I didn�t even recognize him. My parents divorced when I was 3�. I remember the day he left. He took us for weekend visitation sometimes. Not regularly, but not sporadically. He moved to Colorado when I was 9. Bootsie and I went to see him once. We didn�t see him very much after that. I think maybe 3 or 4 Christmases.

She told me about my cousins, aunts and uncles and that my pawpaw had passed away a couple of years ago.

From that time in NC, I have one memory of her. I have one memory of 2 of my uncles (because they�re identical twins, are 19 mos. younger than my father and look exactly like him). I have several memories of my pawpaw from that time. I called him pawpaw. He used to ruffle my hair. He had a big nose. He had big, thick black glasses. He gave me quarters to buy ice cream sandwiches when the ice cream truck came by. He made me macaroni & cheese one day, because I didn�t feel good. My father despised him. His name was Worth, but my father called him �Worthless.�

I don�t know what upset me more. Hearing her voice, with it�s drawl so similar to my father�s. Or hearing about all the family that I never knew and probably never will. Or hearing that my pawpaw had died. And I am a little surprised that I have been so affected by one phone call when I�ve had 20+ years of nothing. Nothing. Even when my father was around, we never heard from his side. He wouldn�t even give me her address so I could send her a graduation announcement.

I don�t know what to do with this. She wants me to write her. 23 years. I can�t wrap my brain around this.

Currently Reading:
Jackie After Jack: Portrait of the Lady by Christopher P. Andersen

Listening To: ...

~*~

Have a happy day!

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