My clan grandmother lived behind our house until she passed away. She helped to raise my mother as a child, and in return my mother promised to take care of Grandma in her later years. So, when my mother married, my dad agreed to build her a little place she could call home.
Her visits were usually few. She either came to use the phone, or ask my mother to take her to town. Occasionally, she would come to watch television for a few minutes, then leave without a word.
Grandma Ida spoke very little English. "Lie die, dog," was about the only phrase she knew. It always made us chuckle.
One summer afternoon, my mother had just taken the clothes off the line and brought them inside to fold. She, my two younger nieces, and myself were in the living room helping her, while watching television. We could hear the squeak of the back screen door, followed by slow footsteps.
"Dud-zoh" Mom called to her. "Come on in." One by one, the three of us joined suit.
"Hi, Grandma! We're in here. C'mon in, Grandma."
My youngest niece, who was about 4 at the time, popped up and ran into the kitchen, then checked the dining room. "Where's Grandma?" I got up and did the same. Except, I went from the living room to the dining room and back around. Next, I checked out the door leading to the garage to see, if for some reason, she had gone there. No Grandma. Anywhere.
The next day, Grandma came over. My mother asked if she had been over to use the phone the day before.
I'm sure you can guess her answer.
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