My Grandma and the Purple Passion Pit
It’s December, and still no bad decisions made in the Fall. Except for the “bargain” camera I bought on Black Friday and took back after a serious case of buyers remorse (oh….and after using it at Red Rocks). I didn’t need a camera, I just got caught up.
My sister came for Thanksgiving and we had such a great time. I’ve been feeling really nostalgic lately, I’m sure it’s the time of the year. I’ve been thinking about my grandma and missing her. She was my mom’s mom and when my mom needed someone to take us places while she was at work, I remember it either being my grandma or my grandpa (my dad’s dad). My mom was a single mom and needed help. I’ve been incredibly blessed with a flexible job as I have no family here to schlep kids to appointments, but my mom had my grandma and grandpa for dentist appointments, etc. I came out of the orthodontist office on more than one occasion and my grandpa would be asleep in the lobby. How embarrassing for a 13-year-old, but how I would love to see that scene again.
When I was about 15 there was a new place in town called the Purple Palace. It was supposed to be a place for kids to go and listen to heavy metal and dance or whatever. It was completely purple and I think the only light was a black light. For some unknown reason the only person that could pick me up was my grandma in her little blue Buick. She used to call the place the Purple Passion Pit. As in, “Christy, are you going to that Purple Passion Pit again?” It didn’t last long as they ended up closing it down for underage drinking, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t even try because I knew my grandma was picking me up.
I think it’s funny how people mellow with age. My grandma was not the same person as she was when she was raising my mom. My mom is not the same grandma to my kids as she was raising me and my sister. I’m not saying better or worse, just different. All of the pressure of raising kids is off and you can just enjoy your grandkids.
During the holidays I’m sad that I don’t live by more of my family, but I sure do enjoy that I live by some. And I’ve learned that sometimes it’s the family you make, right? As I looked around my Thanksgiving dinner with my friends and family, I sure did feel blessed.
P.S. I stopped and started this blog several times, so it’s all over the place. It played better in my head last night. Does that ever happen to you?