bittersweet
Last Sunday we went to the local market after church. We only needed a few things – just some meat for the week, some milk, and my newspapers for coupons. Some fruit. Just basic things; I could have gone another day.
The line was long, like it always is on Sundays; the market serves delicious chicken dinners on that day only and it’s not uncommon for the counter to be entirely lined up with the after-church crowd. Though our list was short, our wait in line to pay was long. As usual, Madeline sang to herself while waiting in the cart; she is oblivious to her surroundings unless anyone stops to talk to her – that’s when she’ll clam up, suddenly realizing she’s not alone in her living room.
Of course, someone did stop to chat. An elderly man got into line behind us and began talking with her; shockingly, Madeline chatted right back. It seems that she may have inherited my affection for conversations with old men. ”What’s that song you’re singing?” he asked.
“Well, it’s my song, you know? One I made up about princesses.”
“That so? Do you know ‘Happy Birthday’?” he asked, smiling at her. He scooted closer to hear her.
“Well, yeah.”
“Oh. I’ve always liked that song,” he told her. “It just might be my favorite. What’s your favorite?”
She thought a moment. “Princess songs. I love princess songs the best.”
“Well, sure,” he said, nodding. “I don’t know those, though, I don’t think. Do you like ‘Happy Birthday’? We could sing that one.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not really my favorite.”
“Maybe it’s his birthday,” I prompted her, worried suddenly that it was and that there was no one to sing to him. “Maybe you should sing!”
“Oh, no, it’s not my birthday today,” he told us. “Soon, though. This week, I’ll be 87. And married for 65 years!” He shook his head. “Can you believe that? We got married on my birthday so that I’d never forget! I’ve had some good ideas and that was one of them!” He chuckled at his own trickery.
Madeline gawked openly at him. “Eighty-SEVEN?” she cried. “That’s A LOT.”
“I know it!” he laughed. “I know it!”
And then it was our turn to pay and he and Madeline waved bye-bye; we wished him happy birthday and happy anniversary and many more. I wanted to hug him, tell him I was happy for him – 87 and out and about, buying groceries, smiling - if only to stop the feeling of unfair that was crawling up my throat where it always rests in moments like these, causing a lump that makes it hard to swallow. Sometimes it tastes bitter, and others only bittersweet. Sunday, seeing Madeline giggling with him, it was only bittersweet.
Pushing the cart out to the car, I gave Madeline several kisses on the forehead and thought Grandpa would have love, love, loved you. He would be so damn delighted to talk to you, sing with you, swing with you. He would have laughed and laughed at the things you say.
I buckled her into her carseat and straightened back up in the winter air, meeting Jimmy’s eyes as he finished putting the groceries into the trunk. He knows me well, and he knew where my thoughts had traveled. He smiled and said, “My grandparents would have loved her, too.”
We know that they do, from near and far and wherever they are. Still, seeing what could have been in the here and now: bittersweet.
I have those thoughts sometime too. One day I was with a friend and Lexi made someones day at Starbucks by being cute and sweet and my friend said something that stuck with me and I’m not going to nail it here but it was like: My grandma is far away – but I hope she runs into a Lexi today because everyone should get to feel that joy and if it can’t be me I want it to be somebody.
It’s like a pay it forward thing.
Oh you and your excellent way with words…you have me tearing up over here.
I’m tearing up a little too. I am now grandparentless.. my oldest grandparent, my paternal Grandma passed away suddenly this fall at 96. I met this man at her showing that really pulled at my heartstrings. He was a resident at her assisted living place, and had known she and my grandpa since their first visit there for rehab more than 5 years ago. He was sharp mentally and answered my questions about his family, saying that he has one son that very rarely visits him and although he’d been married a couple times, had no partner. He always liked my grandparents because they were also so sharp, educated and eager for good conversation. Imagine being that old and being totally alone. Makes me want to adopt him.
I like Cass’s idea.. there were adorable children that warmed your grandparents’ hearts years ago.. now you are returning the favor to the world.