Grandma Mary and the Government

I spent last Saturday crammed in the back seat of my car with two backpacks, a laptop, one magenta bag, a box holding my new snow boots, and my Grandma Mary. As the car inched through the Bozeman pass Grandma began talking about the government. As soon as I heard the first words escape her mouth I knew it was going to be bad. I tried to quickly look out the window, but started feeling guilty for so blatantly ignoring her. I turned back around and prepared to listen to another conspiracy theory. For the next twenty minutes I learned how the government uses satellites to tell whether a person locks his door or whether he washes his hands after using the bathroom. I already knew about the satellites from previous lectures, but was surprised to hear that the government now has GPS thread that is woven into most of our clothes so the government can locate our position whenever they want. I know not to fight with her, so I nod my head and keep repeating “That’s horrible” and “Uh hmm.” Finally she stops to comment on Sara’s driving and I grab my St. Augustine’s Confessions and start reading. When Grandma notices she has lost her audience she wipes the fog from the window with her sweater sleeve and mutters the words to a Gaelic song. Peering over my book I smile at her. That is my Grandma.

Grandma Mary first appears like the typical grandma. She bakes loaves of fruit cake every Christmas, and tries to spoon mounds of food onto our plates saying we need to eat tomatoes because they’re healthy. She grimaces while listening to hip hop and once called my sister a hussy for wearing a v-neck sweater. She loves navy sweaters and blouses and sets her dyed hair in curlers every night. She drinks tea every afternoon and constantly buys nightgowns for my mom.

While these characteristics might sound like any seventy-five year grandma, my grandma really is unique. Conspiracy theories are an inevitable topic of discussion with Grandma Mary. She is also what I call an Irish supremacist. I’m constantly reminded of my great Irish ancestors who made up 32% of the armed forces in World War II. Did you know that more Irishmen died in World War II than all of the Americans in every following war? Grandma Mary loves to read about history and politics, but often confuses events or misinterprets what she reads. Whenever she starts a statement with, “I read that…” I know that only part of the upcoming information will be true. She is honest about everything, to the point of being mean. She once told an obese man in Wal-Mart that he needed to lose some weight. She did, however, empathize with him by showing him her rounded stomach.

Even though Grandma Mary is a little crazy at times, she is an amazing woman. When she was only nineteen years old she came to America to earn enough money to pay off the debts of her family back in Ireland. Since then she has worked diligently at every task from running her farm in Wyoming to her cleaning rooms at the Holiday Inn. At the age of seventy-five she still works at the Heritage Inn three times a week washing laundry and cleaning rooms. My grandma loves her family and tries to provide for us as much as she can. Nothing makes her happier than cooking us dinner and sending us home with jars of homemade jam and loaves of banana bread. She is also very proud of her children. When my dad received his doctoral degree in Education Grandma just clutched his hand and cried. She visits her elderly neighbors every day and loves to talk with children. After meeting any young person she will soon start referring to them as “love.” My Grandma Mary can drive me crazy with her stories and over-bearing personality, but those are what make her so special. Besides, there is nothing like a little government conspiracy to make a long drive interesting.