Chapter 4

The next morning my dad drove us over to our apartment, which was strange, since Mom and Dad did not go to each other’s home. We walked into the living room, there sat my mom, John, now us and my dad. Something terrible must have had happened, since mom, john and my dad were not prime candidates to be in the same room.
I noticed very quickly that my mom looked really bad. I got a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. We seemed to sit there for a very long time, it was probably no longer than a minute, but still. Finally, my mom began to tell us that the night before my grandmother was killed in an automobile accident. She and my grandfather were going home from visiting one of my mom’s siblings when he lost control of the car. My grandmother was ejected from the vehicle.
As I remember over hearing, my mom and John were having dinner at our apartment, when the phone rang. She answered and was told that the wreck had just happened. Someone had driven by and thought it was Grandma and Grandpa. Mom and John rushed over to the scene. The first thing my mom saw was her mother lying in the ditch, dead. She was so distraught, naturally, that John had to lock her in his truck. I just cannot imagine seeing that and ever being able to close my eyes and not see what she had seen.
I wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral home for visitation nor to the funeral. I was okay with that.
I found out years later that the day my grandmother was buried, my mom and dad had to go to the courthouse to sign the divorce papers. I guess no one considered the fact that my mom was mourning her own mother.
Just seven days later, Mom had to put on the mommy face and play Santa to her two young children. She must have been in a daze that is unexplainable. It crosses my mind often if she thought we were insensitive to be excited and happy about Christmas when we just lost our grandmother, and she had lost her mother. If so, she never ever would have told us she even entertained those thoughts.
John started spending more and more time with us. He took us fishing, hunting, to ball games, anything that we could do, cheap, we did it. Mom and Pam became closer friends, as we did with Ian and Anderson.
I still got off the bus most days at my Mamas’ house. Tracie, my cousin, and I spent many afternoons playing school, church, bus, bank, dress up, dolls, or anything else we could get into. We were like sisters. For many years Tracie and I were always together, every one even thought we were sisters. We even argued sometimes like sisters. One afternoon she and I got into a spat, she was apparently really mad at me cause she went into Mamas’ sewing room and carved my name into her sewing machine table. Mamas’ sewing table was a big deal. My name is still there, I wonder if Mamas’ ever believed me when I said that Tracie did it and not me.
The stories between Tracie and I are numerous. One of my favorite stories was one about her cousin, who was a snob, was watching us for the night. She was so prissy, and we were snotty little girls that were a real bother to her. Before dinner, Tracie noticed that there wasn’t any diet coke there. (Tracie was a diabetic.) Mamas’ (whom lived right next door) always had extra drinks that she horded in the spare bedroom. Tracie and I walked over and got one. I am thinking that right before we left, Sheree made us mad. As we were walking back to Tracie’s house we decided that it would be fun to play a little game of catch with the hot diet coke. We walked into the house, with our no fail plan, and I immediately went to hide somewhere cause I knew I would end up peeing all over myself in moments. Tracie pretended to try to open the coke but acted as if she could not get it. She took it to Sheree, which by the way, had on brand new clothes to priss around the house in, and asked her to open the drink.
I have never seen coke go as far as this one went. The ceiling was covered, the floor, the furniture, but the best part was Sheree and her clothes all soiled, and her perfectly styled hair, was no longer perfectly styled. To this day when Tracie and I reminisce this story always comes up. I don’t think Sheree knows even to this day.

Oh the stories we share.