Every conversation my mother and grandmother had for the last 10 years of my grandmother’s life (just change the name):
Grandmother: “Do you remember Sue Smith?”
Mom: “I don’t think so.”
Grandmother: “ Yes you do, Sue Smith.”
Mom: “Sue Smith? Where would I know her from?”
Grandmother: “ She lived two houses down from us over on Suwannee Street.”
Mom: “I don’t remember a Sue Smith from the neighborhood.”
Grandmother: “She was Sue Jones before she got married.”
Mom: “OH Sue Jones! Yeah I remember her!”
Grandmother: “Well she died.”
The closer you get to death, the more fascinated by you become. My grandparents died in the 80s. Last ten years before they died, my grandfather and his friends went to every funeral no matter who it was or if they knew them. You might think ha ha they went for the food, but they never went to the receptions/wakes. I think they basically just did it as a high five, I’m alive you’re dead type of thing. They did this until every one of them was dead. None of them were overly religious.
My husband’s grandmother has been having this conversation with me for almost twenty years. I did not grow up in that town, I did not grow up in that state, and even after we got married, we never lived close by. But she has never lived anywhere else, and I don’t think she can imagine a world where everyone she knows doesn’t know everyone else she knows. I’ve just learned to quickly accept that of course I remember “Sue from Suwannee Street”.
Every conversation my mother and grandmother had for the last 10 years of my grandmother’s life (just change the name):
Grandmother: “Do you remember Sue Smith?” Mom: “I don’t think so.” Grandmother: “ Yes you do, Sue Smith.” Mom: “Sue Smith? Where would I know her from?” Grandmother: “ She lived two houses down from us over on Suwannee Street.” Mom: “I don’t remember a Sue Smith from the neighborhood.” Grandmother: “She was Sue Jones before she got married.” Mom: “OH Sue Jones! Yeah I remember her!” Grandmother: “Well she died.”
Every. Single. Time.
Haha, that’s so accurate
The closer you get to death, the more fascinated by you become. My grandparents died in the 80s. Last ten years before they died, my grandfather and his friends went to every funeral no matter who it was or if they knew them. You might think ha ha they went for the food, but they never went to the receptions/wakes. I think they basically just did it as a high five, I’m alive you’re dead type of thing. They did this until every one of them was dead. None of them were overly religious.
“If I don’t go to their funeral, they won’t come to mine”
Will they be attending your funeral due to the zombie apocalypse or as ghosts? 🤔
Alle tot
Danke! Die sind alle tot.
Aha Mensch, ja
You reminded me of something… There was this comedian in the 90s. Can’t remember who. But he had this routine about his mother-
“Guess who died today?”
“Mom…”
“Guess who died today?”
“Mom, I’m eating breakfast.”
“Guess who died today?”
“I don’t know… grandma?”
“Yeah, but which one?”
Ha ha ha ha ha!!! 🤣🤣🤣
My husband’s grandmother has been having this conversation with me for almost twenty years. I did not grow up in that town, I did not grow up in that state, and even after we got married, we never lived close by. But she has never lived anywhere else, and I don’t think she can imagine a world where everyone she knows doesn’t know everyone else she knows. I’ve just learned to quickly accept that of course I remember “Sue from Suwannee Street”.