Strange Holiday Pronouncements
Or: Why did it take her so long to realize that?
“Son, you’re weird.”
That was this year’s pre-Thanksgiving proclamation from my grandmother. (Also known as the only member of my family I can stand to be around for more than five minutes in a stretch.)Â Each year, she makes some pronouncement about something relatively irrelevant. And each year, the pronouncement is quickly forgotten.
This year’s pronouncement left me wondering what the appropriate response should be. Seriously. How do you respond to that?
The thing that triggered this … observation … was her realization that the mark on my left wrist wasn’t a stain. It is a tattoo.
“Is that a tattoo?” she asked.
Yes, it is. It’s an ouroboros, Little Mama.
“A what?” (In all fairness, this was a question I fully expected.)
I am prepared for the question with a ready answer: It’s the Greek symbol for infinity, I tell her, forgiving myself the slight lie if only to avoid having to explain it’s ancient, alchemical origins.
“What on earth is that about?”
For this, I have no answer. I can only tell her it’s a personal message to me and has deep significance. But the Governor liked it, I tell her. And he successfully translated the Greek inscription.
I can’t tell you what last year’s pronouncement was, only that there was on. And there has been one each year for the last 29 years of my life. But something tells me that I’ll remember this, the 30th Thanksgiving Proclamation of Little Mama, as something quite special.
“Son, you’re weird,” she said, casting me into an immediate quandary about a response. So without a beat, and with all the love and respect I could muster, I smiled and said the only thing I could
Yes, I am.
Happy Thanksgiving, boys and girls. See you after the holidays.