I’m not sure what to call this?  Pillow talk?

I’ve decided to tell you a little about the picture on the home page of my website.  The one of Tilly-two (our deer) getting off the coffee table is pretty self explanatory.  It’s the other one that people might wonder about.  The one of me pushing the bathroom door stall open with this expression on my face like I’ve just seen Santa and he’s real.

My mum had taken me and one of my sisters to drive down to Hemet (I think I’ve misspelled that) to visit our Grandmother Tilly and then we were all going to drive back so Grandmother could visit with the rest of the family.  (This was the trip where I taught my Grandmother to eat Cool Whip in her porridge) Our grandmother was “rich” (at least in our minds), so I wore my very best school clothes and washed my face and brushed my hair every day so she would think I was fancy too.  We visited my Grandfather’s grave and there is a photo of me, kneeling beside his grave and putting a flower down.  I wore my black long sleeved shirt and grey jumper because I’d read enough books to know that with things like death and funerals, one is supposed to wear somber colours to show respect for the dead.  Never mind that my Grandfather had been dead for almost three years at this point.  I wanted to do what was right. 

I remember being a little scared to go near his grave and kneel down, but I did it because Mama wanted a picture.  I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.  I didn’t have that many memories of my Granddaddy.  Only that I liked him and he was nice.  I do remember once however that he yelled at us kids because we were playing and forgot that we weren’t allowed to walk on the shuffleboard area, because of the wax or something.  I was only three, so it’s sort of vague. 

Anyway, when we were at his grave and my Mama wanted me to go close and kneel down, and I don’t know what I expected.  I suppose was scared because when I was 3 1/2 and he was dying, I heard him call for a pillow.  I made my Mama go to the post office and mail mine because he needed it.  We didn’t even know that he was dying.  I just knew that he needed my pillow.  Later mama got the phone call from Grandmother Tilly, that Granddaddy was dying.  Mama asked Grandmother if he had been calling for a pillow and Grandmother said yes, but that he already had two and so she didn’t give him another. 

Everybody had always thought it was so great that I heard him calling for a pillow from over 3,000 miles away, but to be honest, it kind of scared me.  I pretended I thought it was cool too, but I didn’t. 

So, I guess that’s why I was scared to get close to his grave.  Everybody talked about how much he loved me.  How we had this special connection and I suppose I was scared that he might decide to reach up out of his coffin and grab me because he missed me so much and wanted company.  But he didn’t.  The grass just felt a little damp under my knees.  It was a hot day, clear blue skies, so the wetness must have been from sprinklers.  Nothing much happened when I knelt down.  I just did, Mama took a picture, I looked solemn and that was it.  We went back to Grandmother’s house.  I think Mama was a little disappointed, but maybe I’m projecting that.  She asked me if I heard anything, or felt anything, and I said no.  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to have heard or felt, but I felt like a fake.  A failure.  I got one of the worst headaches I’d ever had in my life and had to go to bed. 

Wow!  I just went WAY off topic.  Oh well.  That’s what’s fun about blogging.  I don’t have to keep on track, move the story forward.  I don’t even have to finish what I’m saying.  Well, I don’t want this to be too long of a blog, so I guess I’ll have to tell you about the photo tomorrow.  Bye for now.  Love, Meg

(Oh, and for those of you who have contacted me to say you’ve been worrying about last weeks blog, you know the tiny lump thing, I’m on it.  They’ve scheduled an ultrasound to double check so I’ll be doing that in a couple weeks.  My birthday actually.  So that will be good to get that over with.  I’ll let you know.  Thanks for the love and good wishes.  Don’t worry. xo)

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 17, 2008 in Chewing the Fat

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