Granny

I’m not much of a complex writer or even a complex woman
But I will always say what I feel and mean what I say
However the words that I chose may not be those of delicate definitions.
I don’t think before I speak and I almost always stick my foot in my mouth at least once a day.
I’m a foul mouth woman with lots to say, but nothing too strenuous, nothing of much concern.
I think in spurts and once my mind starts I’m stuck with thoughts rambling around and making me think more than I should or more than I ought.
I over analyze almost any important conversation and will worry myself until I’ve talked it out.
I sometimes forget the woman I wanted to be, who she was, where she went, or if I was really ever a woman at all.
But when I feel weak and began to lose control, I remember my granny and how she was the toughest woman I knew.
No one could hold her down; she never slowed down not even when the cancer struck her. Fancy rings, long dangly earrings, 3 holes in each ear and a pretty antique diamond rings decorated her old arthritic hands.
Piss Ant she called from as far back as I could remember and when my world came tumbling in and she wasn’t there to guide me, I felt the strength from within that I had gained from her. She pushed me and told me it was ok, that I could do it, I didn’t need no man.” Hell I did it for years and I did just fine”, is what I could hear her say as if she was standing here today.
Cowboy boots and country line dancing was what that old mean bag was about. She cursed and she yelled and she always wrapped our presents in comic newspapers. This woman alone is why I’m not ashamed of my mouth. I am this woman, more than anyone else, and losing her was the hardest thing in my life.
Hard women, maybe that’s what we are, granny and I. Too mean to be nice, but really too kind or gentle for our own damn self. So we just curse, drink, and smoke and do everything an ideal woman’s not suppose to do.
Granny wasn’t a complex woman and always said what she meant and never gave a damn if it hurt your feelings or anyone else for that matter.
I realize now I started this off writing about myself , when really all I was writing about was that wonderfully mean old woman who I called Granny for 20 something years. And I remembered how much being her piss ant was the best dam thing in the world.