Friday, March 12, 2010

Dear Grandpa: You're Awesome. And Old. And Kind Of An Asshole.

Dear Grandpa,

Hi, remember me? Miss Yvonne? Your youngest grandchild, the one who came to visit you and Grandma in town after you moved off the farm because I was born so much later than all the other grandkids and never got to experience the joy of farm life like they did? Also, I wore leotards and legwarmers a lot and drank all your off-brand root beer but would never admit to it?

So Dad (your oldest son, remember him?) reminded me that your 100th birthday is on Saturday. I just wanted to write you a little letter to tell you how very excited and happy I am for you! I know you've been looking forward to this big day for awhile. I wish I could fly home to Minnesota to be there for your big birthday party. Even though the last time I visited you at the nursing home, you confused me with my Aunt Margie and you kept calling my dad by my uncle's name. But whatevs. It's all good, Grandpa. I mean, so you forget who people are sometimes! Big deal! You're 99 years old!

And so what if you yell at all the nurses in the home when they make you put on clean clothes every day? Seriously, a few grease stains and a little body odor doesn't hurt anyone. You're just doing your part for the environment by saving energy on laundry. Plus, those nurses deserve it for taking your Tums away from you. How do they know that antacids don't cure headaches and gout? They're just a gaggle of know-nothing women. It's not like they're doctors or anything, right Grandpa? Up top!

And I'm sorry, but that guy in the room across from you totally had it coming when you tried to trip him last month. Everyone knows his room was supposed to be YOUR room! Even though no one ever told you that. It was implied. Duh.

You know what's great about you, Grandpa? How you always manage to steer the conversation back to yourself no matter what the subject. Like that one time...oh man, it was so hilarious...when I was trying to tell you about how my son is doing in school and you grabbed my arm and yelled "I keep telling them to take me off those damn hormone pills and they won't listen to me! I don't need 'em, they give me hot flashes!". Yeah, that was great. Good times, Grandpa. Good times.

I'm always learning new things from you. Because I had no idea that doctors prescribe estrogen for prostate cancer when you are too old for surgery. I love hearing about your bodily functions too. Who knew one person could urinate so much in a day??? It's fascinating, really.

Hey, remember the time you told my mom that my sisters and I weren't really true family members because we are female and therefore can't carry on the family name? Gosh Grandpa, thank you so much for shedding light on this issue! I never really thought about it that way, but it makes total and complete sense. Thank goodness I got married and changed my name so that I don't embarrass you in front of God when you go to heaven. This way, when I get up there you can be all "Oh her? Psssh, she's just my granddaughter. But go ahead and let her in anyway. She got married, so it's all good. Even though she kept her maiden name as part of her middle name. If I can forgive her, I'm sure you can too God." Because I'm sure you'll be God's left-hand man (not right-hand because the Big J is already on that side) when you go to heaven on account of you being so devout and republican.

Next time I come for a visit could you maybe tell me more about how the Democrats are ruining this country? I promise to bring you another large print book about George W Bush in exchange. Or maybe this time you'd prefer one about Rush Limbaugh? I know you told me that you voted Democrat once when you were young and didn't know any better, but I promise not to tell Jesus about that at your funeral. It'll be our little secret.

Happy 100th Birthday, Grandpa! Be sure to hug Aunt Margie/me at your party.

Love always,Miss Yvonne

20 comments:

Logical Libby said...

Ah, old people. Who would pass on racism and conspiracy theories if they weren't around...

Tony said...

Happy birthday, Miss Yvonne's grandpa! I can't wait till I get old. Then I would really have an excuse to hold nothing back!

diane said...

You mean estrogen doesn't cure prostrate cancer?? Oh man.

kate sweeten said...

This reminds me of going to visit my husband's 90-year-old grandma in her nursing home and having her 90-year-old-boy-toy tell me all about how they've been "luvahs" for quite some time.

*gag*

Ahh, old people!

Green-Eyed Momster said...

Wow! By the title of your post, I thought you knew my dad. Old people rock. Can't you just wait to be 99?

Jugs!!

Soda and Candy said...

Good times indeed. Congrats to Grandpa for making it to 100 though!

Sarah said...

100! Well, now! That's a celebration! Happy Birthday, Mr. Miss-Yvonne's-middle-name!

Anonymous said...

Hahaha, what a guy your grandpa is! Actually, I reserve the right to be a cranky old fucker when I'm 100. If you reach 99 years old you've earned the grouch badge. Plus old people just seem to get away with everything. I plan on calling people pigfuckers and being as mean and spiteful as I can when I'm 99 just because I can.

Actually no, I'll be senile and sit in a chair all day peeing myself and listening to that Russian guy going Lololo!

Megs said...

Wow. Happy birthday to your grandpa.

I pray I'm never that old.

Anonymous said...

that sounds just like my grandpa, except less angry and probably with less hats

The Shitty Astrologer said...

Wow...a century old. Bottom up to you to ol' coot!

Char said...

Old age is largely all about BMs and a constant flow of urine. I know this to be true because I R one! Happy B'Day Asshole!

Chris said...

Maybe you could send him a copy of "Going Rogue." But that might be confusing, because of Sarah being a woman and therefore not a real person. Does that mean if she gets elected that Todd will really be the President? (Or whatever his name is. I didn't bother looking it up.)

justmakingourway said...

It's going to be so fun to be old and get to say and do anything you want, isn't it? I mean, besides dealing with the whole failing body and stuff.

corticoWhat said...

Oh you are so going to pay for this post someday. I predict you'll be the victim of a bad batch of Chinese Depends.

sheldon said...

Being old and a blood relative, even a close relative, does not preclude the possibility, nay, likelihood of some old guy being a total flaming douchebag. The determining factor as positive indicator was if he is or was a conservative.

Ed said...

I would get along great with your grandpa.

And, I wouldn't just up and leave him like that Bitch of a grandma of yours.

Mama Wheaton said...

I don't think I would want to live that long but he at least sounds like he still gets a kick out of life.

Amanda @ It's Blogworthy said...

GOD live for 100 years and you think you can just say anything. Old people are so selfish. ;)

Sarah said...

This is kind of blogstalky of me, but I hope you'll appreciate it.
I went to a writers' meeting this weekend. The presentation topic was 'humor and poetry.'
Anyway, one poem, by Ted Kooser made me think of your post about your grandfather.
It's called "Father."


Father
Today you would be ninety-seven
if you had lived, and we would all be
miserable, you and your children,
driving from clinic to clinic,
an ancient fearful hypochondriac
and his fretful son and daughter,
asking directions, trying to read
the complicated, fading map of cures.
But with your dignity intact
you have been gone for twenty years,
and I am glad for all of us, although
I miss you every day—the heartbeat
under your necktie, the hand cupped
on the back of my neck, Old Spice
in the air, your voice delighted with stories.
On this day each year you loved to relate
that the moment of your birth
your mother glanced out the window
and saw lilacs in bloom. Well, today
lilacs are blooming in side yards
all over Iowa, still welcoming you.