Dear Grandma, Smoke It If You Got It.

I hear about a lot of elderly people being headstrong. I don’t think it’s something that comes with the territory or slowly seeps into their heads; I just think that at around 90, people stop giving a shit. I mean, they’re going to do what they’re going to do and to hell with what the rest of the family thinks.

*On a side note, my grandmother called me a dyke yesterday, which I thought was pretty cool. But, anyway, back to the topic.

I’m 34 years young and I have three living grandparents. How fortunate I am. All of them are around 95, but still relatively healthy. They all realize they’ve lived ample and fulfilling lives. There’s nothing they would have done any differently and none of them have any regrets. Wow. What a deal.
Most of the family is accepting of their wishes and will take care of everything after they pass. There are some who, of course, are trying to put off the inevitable and do everything to make this person not leave; but still they slip away. One of my family members wants his mother (my grandmother) to fly to either Florida or Mexico to go to a health ranch to “get better” (stronger, faster, better – some Daft-Punkish wish). He wants the whole family to try and persuade my grandmother to go elsewhere. This is a woman who has never gotten on a plane in her life (fear of planes – pteromerhanophobia **tero-mer-hahn-a-FOBIA**) and is not going to start now. She’s also been in her house for more years than I’ve been around and will be damned if she dies outside of it.

My grandfather in Honolulu is in a care home and, a few days ago, decided he needed soy sauce on his dinner. What do you do when you need soy sauce? Press the RED EMERGENCY BUTTON on the wall, of course – the one designated for people to save you if you’re dying. Press it repeatedly, in fact.
Then, when no one showed up because he presses it all the time, he decided to take matters into his own hands and supported his weight on a roller tray, slipped, fell, and fractured his hip. He’s 94 – and probably pretty upset that they couldn’t just bring him the soy sauce in the first place.

Stubbornness, some would call it. I just call it being over 90. Outside of premeditated murder, I don’t think laws should apply to nonagenarians. Anyone who’s over 90 can smoke as much FILL IN THE BLANK as they want. If they accidentally off someone, well, it wasn’t premeditated and what the hell was the person doing around a 90-year-old in the first place. Care homes for the elderly should be party houses on the OVER 90 floor. I mean, c’mon, if you hit 90 – you make your own rules.

So, Grandma, you go ahead and eat, drink, and smoke whatever you want. You need more, I’ll get it for you. When you’re ready to go, go right ahead. We’ll take care of the rest. You earned it.

2 thoughts on “Dear Grandma, Smoke It If You Got It.

  1. Didn’t he ever hear the story of the boy who cried wolf? I’m not sure the rest of society will ever understand 90+ year olds until they start to get up there. Thank you for the wonderful and amusing read 🙂

  2. Dear NotThomas –
    Thanks for the great review. I have indeed heard the story, but yeah, old people are great and I love how interesting their personalities are. We kind of sweep them into a dustpan and out of sight. Sucks. Glad you liked it. Thanks for reading.

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