I was a young woman – early 20s, had been living with my Grandma since age 16, a “roomate” for Grandma – she was fairly OK on her walker, but she needed looking after. It worked out great: she lived in my neighborhood, had an awesome garden, orchards, a “farmish” old house – I have a heart full of great memories from the experience. A friend introduced me to “Jack” a guy living in an apartment around the corner from Grandma’s. We hit it off immediately, and so our relationship began
We attended the same church, I found I went to grade school (Catholic) with his cousins, and all was fun in the late 70s early 80s. Eventually he moved back to his “neighborhood” about 15 miles away.
One evening, after church, partying with both of our families, dinner, drinks, etc., he was too buzzed to drive home. I had to sneak him into the old farmhouse for the night. My Grandma let me in the front door (she had bolts and chains etc. so a key would not give me access.) She clanked with her walker back to bed. I let “Jack” in the back kitchen door. We tiptoed in unison up the painted/tread stairs to my bedroom. Once upstairs – his first time ever – he asked for the bathroom. I told him “the bathroom is downstairs, outside Grandma’s bedroom” – the look on his face I will never forget. He turned and ran down the stairs (thankfully not carpeted) with full blown diarrhea. He ran out the kitchen door and stripped and showered with the garden hose.
I was in total shock, and so embarrased for him. I splashed Spic-N-Span and water in a bucket, grabbed a trash bag and a roll of paper towels, and swished my way scrubbing down the steps, using the entire roll of towels to swipe into the trash bag. Grandma never stirred during this calamity.
“Jack” came back in the house, so embarrassed. We got back upstairs and settled in. The next morning, I had to figure out how to get him out of the house. The staircase was in the kitchen, and Grandma was at the kitchen table, preparing food and on the phone. I could tell it would be awhile before she left the room, to let me sneak “Jack” out.
Around 2:00 p.m. (JACK WAS FURIOUS), I finally had a plan. I asked him for $20.00. My Grandma loved counting money, making change, etc. “Grandma,” I asked, “Do you have change for a $20.00?
“Oh yes, I will get it!” she said, and she finally left the kitchen table and went back to her bedroom to make change – a good 20 minute project for her. I held the back door open and “Jack” escaped.
He was so sheepish for a few days. We never spoke of this. I knew then I would receive an engagement ring for Christmas. And, I did.
I will now tell you what happened, as I have been lurking here for a few years, and I believe someone will ask. “Jack” passed away suddenly four months before our wedding day. It was a very long time ago. and although very tragic, time does soften the grief. I will never forget my dear Grandma and my Dear “Jack.” Those were some of the greatest years of my life. It took me many years to tell this story to my friends and family.