The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Johnny Appleseed

Lately, I've been thinking about mortality and how easy death can happen to any one of us. Recently, my grandmother's boyfriend's sister died after taking a fall down the stairs. She was 78, and the head trauma was too much for her. She spent her final days in a nursing home not realizing who she was or where she was at. A perfect way to go.

But it got me thinking, what if my grandmother goes? I'm the sole one responsible for her...and that just ain't pretty. So weekly, I call and just check on her. I can tell she's getting older, as she'll tell me the same things several times during our phone conversation. Yes, I know she's critical of me and not the greatest for my self esteem, but she's the only family I have. Like it or not.

So I called her yesterday, like I normally do on Sundays (not during church time) and there was no answer. I then called again around 8:30 last night...and still...no answer.

This morning, I called her at 7 am...and again...she didn't answer, and I began to panic. In my head, she was lying dead on her apartment floor, or worse...she had had a stroke and couldn't answer the phone. So I did what needed to be done. I called her building's management office and gave them permission to go into the apartment. Yes...I said they were allowed to break the door down if they needed to. (She's 83 and paranoid. Even though she lives in a security building, she still feels the need to put 16 million chains on the door when she's inside.)

The building office called me back to say she wasn't inside her home, and that they weren't sure where she was. They asked if I wanted to file a report with the police.

At this point, I did what I've done in regards to my mother. I became the freaking parent. I started calling every single person I knew that knows my grandmother, asking if they had heard from her. I googled searched and found her boyfriend's telephone number and called him.

Apparently she spent the night at his home. My daily church going grandmother spent the night at a man's home...and if she was on her knees...I don't think she was praying.

My god...my grandmother is a slut.


It's true...the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree.

Patrick - 10:03 AM -

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