This is Why I Drink.
...As time progressed, Gram focused mostly on conservation and self-preservation, saving her energy by speaking very little, if at all. Her responses were limited mostly to “Yes,” “No,” and “I don’t care.”
It was somewhat sad to see this grand old lady not speaking much anymore, but it must have been difficult for her to even hear regularly-paced speech that didn’t make sense to her. It might have been that much like myself when I was younger; Gram was unfamiliar with her immediate environment at our home.
Understanding how Gram must have felt reminded me of my time at college years before: it was obvious that Gram’s unfamiliarity with the local region, her macular degeneration that caused her legal blindness, and her poor hearing that required hearing aids, must have caused her quite some isolation and loneliness. Yet Gram never complained or spoke out against her living conditions, even when Mom and I might argue over some trivial thing.
In fact, this may have been a plausible reason for Gram’s withdrawing into her shell, communicative only when necessary, and unhappy when Mom and I disagreed with one another, which occurred regularly. Gram’s only love was for the Boston Red Sox baseball games when they played, and she loved it when they trounced their opponents.
Perhaps this was part of her spirit for living, and she made sure I learned what that spirit was. One afternoon, Gram & I were watching an afternoon Red Sox baseball game. The following is the conversation that transpired between Gram & I during the pregame warm-up.
It’s also an apt reason for why I drink, much thanks to Gram. Yes, the following conversation actually occurred one afternoon at home, but my feeling was that this hard-of-hearing, not-so-dumb grand old lady was having a bit of fun with me, albeit somewhat innocently. What began innocently soon escalated into a flurry of back-and-forth misunderstandings.
“A Brief Understanding of Why I Drink”
Bob: “Hey, Gram, they’re doing a special report on Jason Varitek, the captain of the Red Sox, on the Art of Catching.”
Edna: “Who?”
Bob: “Jason Varitek, the captain of the Red Sox.”
Edna: “What team does he play for?”
Bob: “The Red Sox. He’s the catcher for their team, and they’re doing a report on him.”
Edna: “Who?”
Bob: “Jason Varitek!”
Edna: “Why are they doing that?”
Bob: “No clue, Gram. They’re doing a report on his experiences as a catcher for Boston.”
Edna: “Who?”
Bob: “Varitek!”
Edna: “The catcher for the Red Sox?”
Bob: “Yes!”
Edna: “And they’re doing a report on him?”
Bob: “Yes!”
Edna: “Who?”
Bob: “Oh, brother…”
Edna: “Oh, you mean the people on TV?”
Bob: (Shakes head and saunters into the kitchen…to get a beer…)
