Saturday, December 30, 2006
Weird Family Stuff
I just rented "Superman Returns" or whatever it's called [the new one with Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor]. I watched it once and now I'm watching it again. And right off the bat, the second viewing triggered a memory for me [I think the first viewing triggered the same memory, but I was more interested in watching the movie than writing this, so that's why it took a second viewing to trigger the writing of this memory].
Without giving too much away, here's how the movie goes: We see the bedroom of an old woman. In the room with her, are two dogs. I don't know the breed of these dogs, but they remind me too much of a dog my grandmother had. And that's the memory that got triggered. It occurs about two or three minutes into the movie so there isn't much to give away, is there? Sorry.
At some point in the latter part of her life, someone gave my grandmother a small dog. One of those really small, yammering, yipping, little dogs. The type that old women like to own, the type that they like to put ribbons in the hair of, the type that I've always wanted to stomp on like a bug, and just crush the life out of it. That's the kind of dog that someone gave my grandmother. And she loved it.
The first thing that she did was to name it. She named it after her second daughter. My grandmother thought that the dog twitched her ass in much the same way that her second daughter twitched hers. Actually, on this, I have to agree. Both of them could shake that thang... And shut up about me watching my aunt twitch her ass.
For whatever reason, my grandmother really loved this dog, and she kept her [the dog] until the end of her [my grandmother] days. Yeah, the dog managed to outlive her. After my grandmother passed, I don't really know who took care of her dog; by then, I'd moved away and didn't get back as often as I should have. But while I was home this past summer, my mom did tell me a story about the dog.
At some point in the not too distant past, the dog finally passed. I still don't know who had her [I just never bothered asking, no big deal to me at the time], but I know it wasn't my mother. Maybe one of her sisters was the caretaker. In any event, my mom and one of her sisters [not the one with the twitchin' ass] ended up at the site of my grandmother's grave with the dog's carcass. According to mom [and to the best of my memory], the dog was in a bag in a box. My mom and my aunt were able to dig down about one and a half feet before hitting my grandmother's outer perimeter [I'll be honest; I can't think of what it's called. Not coffin, not casket, it's farther out than that.]. At that point, they realized that the box wouldn't fit into the hole they'd dug. So, according to mom, they took the bag out of the box and put that in the hole and covered it back up.
I really don't know if that's the sort of thing that should be going on in the cemetery of the family church. Hopefully if they had gotten caught, someone eventually would have looked the other way and let them off. Thanks to my mom and my aunt, my grandmother and her dog are resting together [hopefully] until the end of time. But I can't help but wonder what is going to happen centuries in the future when some archaeologist eventually stumbles upon the grave site and finds them. I can only hope that by that time, the statute of limitations on whatever crime my mom and aunt might have committed will have expired.
Without giving too much away, here's how the movie goes: We see the bedroom of an old woman. In the room with her, are two dogs. I don't know the breed of these dogs, but they remind me too much of a dog my grandmother had. And that's the memory that got triggered. It occurs about two or three minutes into the movie so there isn't much to give away, is there? Sorry.
At some point in the latter part of her life, someone gave my grandmother a small dog. One of those really small, yammering, yipping, little dogs. The type that old women like to own, the type that they like to put ribbons in the hair of, the type that I've always wanted to stomp on like a bug, and just crush the life out of it. That's the kind of dog that someone gave my grandmother. And she loved it.
The first thing that she did was to name it. She named it after her second daughter. My grandmother thought that the dog twitched her ass in much the same way that her second daughter twitched hers. Actually, on this, I have to agree. Both of them could shake that thang... And shut up about me watching my aunt twitch her ass.
For whatever reason, my grandmother really loved this dog, and she kept her [the dog] until the end of her [my grandmother] days. Yeah, the dog managed to outlive her. After my grandmother passed, I don't really know who took care of her dog; by then, I'd moved away and didn't get back as often as I should have. But while I was home this past summer, my mom did tell me a story about the dog.
At some point in the not too distant past, the dog finally passed. I still don't know who had her [I just never bothered asking, no big deal to me at the time], but I know it wasn't my mother. Maybe one of her sisters was the caretaker. In any event, my mom and one of her sisters [not the one with the twitchin' ass] ended up at the site of my grandmother's grave with the dog's carcass. According to mom [and to the best of my memory], the dog was in a bag in a box. My mom and my aunt were able to dig down about one and a half feet before hitting my grandmother's outer perimeter [I'll be honest; I can't think of what it's called. Not coffin, not casket, it's farther out than that.]. At that point, they realized that the box wouldn't fit into the hole they'd dug. So, according to mom, they took the bag out of the box and put that in the hole and covered it back up.
I really don't know if that's the sort of thing that should be going on in the cemetery of the family church. Hopefully if they had gotten caught, someone eventually would have looked the other way and let them off. Thanks to my mom and my aunt, my grandmother and her dog are resting together [hopefully] until the end of time. But I can't help but wonder what is going to happen centuries in the future when some archaeologist eventually stumbles upon the grave site and finds them. I can only hope that by that time, the statute of limitations on whatever crime my mom and aunt might have committed will have expired.
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