I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by 
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Some-Kinda-Blog-Stop Repeat Refrain.
Some-Kinda-Blog-Stop Repeat Refrain. | Repeat Refrain. |
| Wednesday, 12 August 2009 | |
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When was the last time that you had a good laugh? The kind of laugh that has hurt your jaws and put you into the verge of crying. I had that one question in mind on Sunday night... [Typical Sunday]-- Grandma and I, were able to join Miss M for dinner on Sunday night. Miss M needed help in deciding what food to order (they do it here once a week, I guess, to break the routine of home cooking) but guess what, I am the worst people to ask in such dilemma. "What would you like to it, 'Ma?" "I thought we're having Chinese." "How about you, Mae? What would you like to eat?" "Oh my... that's a tough question. I am not craving for anything. I guess I am all right with anything." "All right. I'll surprise both of you then." She ended up buying some hot and sour soup and some honey-pineapple chicken for me. She figured that I liked the hot and sour soup, the last time that we had Chinese. Hot and sour soup, minus the oil, should have been healthier with all kinds of mushroom in it. I'd ask for a Miso soup next time. It was honey-pineapple chicken, too, for Grandma and another kind of soup. Miss Merle, on the other hand, had a double-order of the hot and sour soup. She said she's binging on junk food the whole day. Sometimes, the silence in the kitchen gets a little bit uncomfortable. You think you heard a stomach grumbling? Well, yeah! You're right, you heard one! It could be mine or Grandma's or somebody else's. Silence, when it becomes too eerie, I swear, it could break your eardrums. And I just feel that I have to do something to break the curse. Sometimes I could think of a topic to talk about and sometimes I was not just into it. There are days that my mind is asleep. When it is just the three of us, we'd talk about books or cooking, some of this and that, or even how I (accidentally) killed one of my orange cats when I was in high school. These people love animals as much as I do. But I was brought up in a country where people would just shrug their shoulders on cruelty to animals. I did not mean to be cruel to that cat. I swear. All I wanted for those two cats was to make them look pretty, so I gave them both nylon necklaces. One hanged herself the next day. [Thank God, we have Sheba, who would usually join us in our little conversations. She's a good ice-breaker, believe me.] Our topics would jump from one to another. One may not be connected to the next one but it's always good to have something to talk about when you're all having dinner. Better than hearing the clicking of the utensils or the stomach's sound while digesting. Or rumbling. "There's Chinese everywhere," I started. "In every TV sitcom, there's always Chinese [food/restaurant]." "Yes. You are right." Refrain: [Insert the sound of silence here, clicking of utensils, sound of a digesting stomach or maybe growling, and even some chewing, too]. [Grandma is just so busy, all she could do is smile.] "Have you read a Mitch Albom book?" "Hmm.. Tuesdays with Morrie..." "Oh! Yes! At first I didn't realized the name. Yes, I have read his works." [Repeat Refrain] "One of the Delany sisters was right about having a black president someday." "You're right. It'll be more amazing if they're still alive to witness that. I wish Obama's mother will live to that age." [Repeat Refrain] "How are you, Grandma?" "Good. And You?" "Good." [Repeat Refrain] "Grandma was singing today." "Really?" "Yes. Summertime. But she couldn't remember some of the lyrics. She was so funny inserting the somethin'-somethin' words." "Ahahah!" "Was it from a movie?" "Well, they did a movie with that song but it was originally from a stage play." "Oh." Note to self: Do a research on that play. [Repeat Refrain] [Insert the sound of someone humming here] "Now it got me singing in my head." "Last song syndrome. Grandma started it!" "Ahaha! You are right!" [Repeat Refrain] Refrain II: "I don't think I had a nap today." "You did not, Grandma. After breakfast, you read the papers, then came lunch time. You did your crossword puzzles, then it's dinnertime." "Oh! That's why." "What's that basket over there?" "Fruit basket." "What's in it?" "Peaches, plums, avocado, melon..." "Oh! I thought there are apples. Peaches look like apples." "Close, Grandma." "That's a lot of fruits! We can sell some of them!" [Repeat Refrain II] "I wonder who drew those things." "Sarah did, Grandma." "How did you know?" "Her name is on it." "Look at that bird, it's bigger than the girl." "I don't see a bird there tho'. I think it's a dog." "Look at that boy, he's jumping on the pool." "I think it's a bee, Grandma. Not a boy." "And what are those red things there?" "Red flowers, Grandma. Flowers with smiling faces." "And that lady is pregnant!" "She's not. She's just holding a flower." "And that boy, jumping on the pool?" "A bee, Grandma." "How did you know it's a bee? Looks like a boy to me." "It has a pair of antennae." "That bird is bigger than the girl." "We should ask Sarah to interpret her drawings some time." "Hahaha! You're right!" [Silence] [Repeat Refrain II] "Where did M go?" "She's playing [practicing] the piano." "Oh my, she's never good at it." "Hahaha! Grandma, what a moral support!" "I can't hear her. Can you hear her?" "A little." "Well, you're not so lucky at all. I am." "Hahaha!" "Yeah. Sometimes not hearing anything is good. This one, I am fortunate." [Silence] "Is she still playing the piano?" "She stopped. She's on the phone." "That I believe, she is good at." [Silence] After 30-some minutes, we're still in the kitchen. "Is she playing the piano now?" "She's still on the phone." "Oh wow." Change scene. The hallway near the music room. Grandma went near the door and leaned on a little to listen. Then in a very soft voice, afraid that someone might hear her, she said: "There I hear her. You know, if I were her and I got to that age. I would stop trying to play the piano." Grandma was just being funny, of course. She always say, her daughter is good in everything she does. Then she'd give a teasing side-comment, except the piano. It always takes a while before I get her back to her room upstairs. And when it's time for rest, the German shepherd, Sheba, would be there, lying on her bed, too. But on Sunday night, Sheba came in with a funny surprise. At first I did not know it was from her. I thought there was an electric wire burning. The odor was so strong that it got me worried. Then Grandma asked me to remove Sheba's collar. So I went near her bed. Sheba was acting weird. She was trying to bury her face beneath Grandma's bedsheets. Grandma's face went askew. "Eww! What's that stinky smell?!!!" After Grandma said that, I went near Sheba again to smell her. Indeed, it was coming from Sheba. I was afraid the odor got into my nostrils, too. Foul odor to the Nth level! "Stinky! Stinky!" Grandma kept saying. We were both laughing hard while Sheba kept on rubbing her whole body on Grandma's bed. I had no idea what happened until Miss M came in. Grandma and I were so noisy laughing. Sheba didn't realize that she's already on the edge of the bed until she fell off the bed. Then she jumped on it again and tried to bury herself on the sheets again. Acting as if she's so embarrassed, but Miss M said, she's trying to rid off the smell. Dogs have sensitive noses. Sheba couldn't stand her own smell. "It stinks!" Grandma kept saying in between her laughs. "Grandma, please stop. You're making me cry!" I pleaded. I couldn't stop laughing at her non-stop side-comments and at Sheba's funny acts. "Next time, Sheba. Never talk to a skunk!" Grandma has finally said. Then off she went to sleep. I guess she's lucky, too, that her sense of smell is not too good now. Thank goodness, I wasn't a nightshifter. That odor was a test of endurance. When I relieved the nightshifter on Monday morning, every window inside Grandma's room were open and Olga had her sweat shirt wrapped around her face. The skunky smell was still there, of course, but I had the privilege to open Grandma's door. Off, Sheba went outside. Maybe to hunt the skunk that did it to her, or not, if she's learned her lesson that night. Sunday night was the last time that I had that kind of good laugh. I would say, it's a refrain that is worth repeating, except for Sheba getting skunked. But believe me, that night will linger in my mind. And maybe so with that foul skunk odor. |
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