Misremembrances
I’ll Leave the Stove on For Ya!
Aging less-than-gracefully
Many years ago my wife and I took a quick detour on our way to see some friends in Ohio to visit my grandmother in Shelbyville, Indiana. Most people don’t choose to vacation in that part of the country which is understandable because there really isn’t much of a reason to visit. Other than seeing one’s friends or family the only features that central Ohio and Indiana offer are cornfields and small towns in economic decline.
My grandmother, however, had been having a difficult time and I decided that a visit was necessary. Her husband had recently passed away and Nana — the name by which her grandchildren referred to her — was struggling with his absence.
Our visit was typical in that it was both pleasant and odd. Aside from a brief mention of the Locust trees being in bloom, I don’t recall much of what we chatted about. At some point, Nana insisted that my wife and I take a porcelain figurine of a young woman holding a child to serve as a good luck charm in our attempt to start a family. Even more memorable than receiving a fertility symbol from Nana was her obsession with the stove in her kitchen.
Shortly before we left I recalled her double, and then triple-checking, the dials on the electric range. These inspections…
