If my grandmother were alive today she would be 120 years old.
Although I'm sure she'd still like to be making oatmeal for me in a double boiler, cooked overnight with swollen up raisins and brown sugar, she can't. So, my choice for a new grandmother is Jean Thompson, our next door neighbor on Southport.
I haven't asked anyone in her family about this, but they are nice people and I think they'd be OK with my decision.
It's not that I need a grandmother really — it's just that I miss the specialness. I could do no wrong. And, Grandma didn't make me do dishes, but I did them anyway because she didn't ask me to.
Jean's two lovely granddaughters, pictured above with her, didn't seem to object when I didn't ask them. Carrie and Aili are kind and sharing individuals. I assumed it would be OK with them.
On the occasion of a recent substantial Jean birthday, I suggested the gift of a male stripper. She barely missed a beat and replied, “Oh, I don't think that would do much good now,” as she said over the phone.
I think we'd get along just fine Jean and I. And I'd promise to behave.