Reflect.

As my first year with Grandma draws to a close, I have a few observations I'd like to share.

First of all, despite much of my complaining, this has been a very unique and (predominantly) positive experience. Grandma and I are significantly closer than we were before. We've finally acclimated to one another, and now I'm leaving for the summer. Truthfully, things have been going so well lately, probably precisely BECAUSE I'm leaving, I almost wish I could convince her I was leaving all the time... Ah well.

I've been cooking a lot lately, and freezing food in the dozens of empty cottage cheese containers kicking around our kitchen, trying to get Grandma ready for a summer of self-reliance. Usually we pull out a container of soup or pasta sauce, let it thaw, and over dinner I get to sit through her criticisms of the initial meal all over again. So Judgmental! So Repetitive! So gonna hear about it over the summer. Reliving my culinary mistakes, quart by frozen quart.

The thing is, I'm a really good cook! I like to cook! My cooking tastes great! Grandmas complaints are that much more annoying as a result: "Not enough meat" is a big one. She also thinks I don't "do enough" to chicken when I cook it. This from a woman whose ideal breast is boneless, skinless and smeared in apricot jelly. Gives me the willies.

I've also sort of uncovered something of a secreted. I've unlocked some knowledge that gives me a bit of sanity in Grandmas crazy storm. Despite her bravado and her charade, Grandma is one of the most insecure people I know. I'm not comforted by this in itself, but it helps me appreciate her motivations a little better.

I started to realize that my idea of her self-image didn't match up with hers when we were watching the winter olympics. Why I thought that my idea would match hers, I don't know, but when I heard her speak so admirably, so reverently, so awestruck of Lindsay Vonn, I thought to myself "hmmmmmm." This tall, blonde, athletic, married, ski goddess possessed all of the attributes Grandma would normally find worthy in a person, but something in Grandma's hero worship reminded me of a tween trying to compare herself to supermodels in Cosmo, and coming up disappointingly short.

These revelations didn't end with the olympics, rather, when we began watching Dancing With the Stars they became evident once again. The format of the show, much like the format of the olympics, begs for judgment. It's perfect. Grandma gets to sit back and judge 'til she's blue in the face. Dancers costumes, dancers bodies, dancers hairstyles, dancers demeanors, dancers attitudes, dancers stories, dancers steps, even her fellow judges are fair game! ("I just HATE that sourpuss in the middle!", even though Len is the judge she resembles most...) And it's not what she says, but the way she says it that has convinced me most of her judgmental, hypercritical nature comes out of deep seated insecurity. The voice that would usually judge me (my skin, my weight, my clothes) all of a sudden drips with envy. She becomes visibly caught up in the dances, exclaiming about how a dancers leg just SHINES!

Watching her be so preoccupied with these images of youth and beauty in coming to grips with her own age and ailments has softened the blows a bit for me. It brings Grandma's perspective a little more clearly into focus, and the mean things she can sometimes say (and has said sometimes throughout my entire life) really aren't about me after all. It's kind of a nice revelation to have, especially because we're about to part ways for a few months.

Tonight my cousin, aunt, uncle and I took a walk down by the lake and were chatting about plans for Grandma's 90th birthday in December. When to have it, where to have it, who to invite, what to serve... The only thing we decided was to start a series of e-mails about it and sound out the rest of the family (and I could have told you THAT was going to happen no matter what!) but, they were asking ME. They wanted to know who Grandma would like at the party, they wanted to know what Grandma would want to serve her guests. At a time when I've felt shaky about what it is I'm doing here and how I fit into this family, into this house, into this home, they're recognizing the work that I do and this relationship I'm building with my Grandma, or maybe they just think it's a good idea to check in with the girl who's there all the time. Either way, a nice revelation to have, too.