Last night as we waited for an apple pie to come out of the oven, my Grandaddy's sweet tooth and diabetes came up.
"How old was he when he when he was diagnosed?"
"Thirty eight...and we wouldn't have found out then if Momma hadn't tricked him into going to the doctor. He thought he was takin' her....boy that's one of the few times he ever really got mad with me."
"Why with you?"
"I wasn't so sure about them people he'd seen...so, I set him an appointment in Tallahassee. He just did not like goin' to the Dr."
I'm 38. Same age as my Grandaddy while all this was goin' on. My Daddy would have been a teenager or maybe his very early twenties.
How am I suppose to actually process and conceive a story where my Grandaddy's my age and my daddy's a teenager?
What like...Fred made an appointment for George and....NO.
Whenever it happened it happened in my mind in the early 80's...that's when and how I mostly remember my Daddy and Grandaddy together before Gradaddy passed away.