We visited my grandmother today. The second one in two days. She sat there as usual and was a prone to crying as usual. She seems to experience these bursts of sentimental nostalgia every ten minutes. Some people on the Orient Express and there we were again, although just briefly. No, she seemed okay today. I just don't know what to do or say.
My mother opened a drawer and told me to look at a “spectacle“. My grandmother's cat Sussi (Suzie? SIOUXSIE?) jumped in and started to poke at a small box. I asked what it was.
“Valeriana®“, they said. I asked what that was.
“Sleeping pills, they are, not strong ones“.
The cat started licking on the box.
“What, why does she like them?“, I asked.
“Every cat likes Valeriana®“, my grandmother said.
“And how do you know that?“, I asked.
“I've had many cats“, she sighed and looked sad again.
“Hmm... but she doesn't get to eat them, does she?“
“No, we don't want her to start sleeping, now that we're here“, said mother.
“Sleep? It would kill her! Those pills are for humans to use!“, I said with a loud voice.
“No, they are not that strong. Your father once took four“, she replied.
“Oh, I see. They are some kind of nature medicine.“
Before we left, my grandmother started arguing that my parents should have more old artefacts on their walls, like this old clock that's on her own wall. My father told her the only thing he would want from her apartment was the TV. She then said the clock was valuable, but my father said it was hardly worth anything. She then proceeded to argue that in time they would too start to appreciate older things, rather than the new ones “that no one understood“ (referring to the digital camera, which my father was carrying). It was kind of funny actually, because my father had nothing to say. He couldn't of course prove that he wouldn't end up being like the old people he seem to despise. Well well.
written by Mattias