intimate strangers. Kimber was talking about how precious her grandma was on the phone last night. Two things: I could never use the word precious to describe either grandma, and two, I haven't talked to either one since my birthday. Though I am proud of these two women, they are more like the cold, intellectual types who'd rather sit and read quietly than go out and have a picnic. I'm not saying I'm the belle of the fucking ball, but it's very hard to be fond of someone who's low on the hugs and easy with the sharp tongue.
Maybe it's my culture. It is a very close-mouthed, everything-behind-closed-doors society where there are lots of shit flying in families, but if you didn't know any better, everything looks fine from the outside. Appearances can be deceiving, and maybe if I just somehow get in better contact with my grandmas then I'll feel better. I did sort of connect with my mom's mom through old movies (we both love Audrey Hepburn, Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart). I remember sitting through two Bogart movies with her two summers ago, not saying a word, but it was one of the best times I had. Might even be ironic to say that it was the best conversation I had with her.
My dad's mom is visiting next week, so I guess there's my chance to get to know her better. My mom said this may be the last time she can visit us, which is even more of an incentive to go beyond the usual small-talk bullshit that we regurgitate the few times we do see each other. Despite the forced familiarity, I do love my grandmas after all.