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Show Peppermint Monday Before I'd had a chance to tell her anything, she ushered us in and dashed to her bedroom. Dashed is not normally the word used with ladies in their seventies, but it sure fit the way Grandma moved when she was excited. She came back carrying a small box wrapped in wild,orange paper- It had curled ribbon everywhere, almost covering the whole top of the present. "Happy birthday, late." Grandma smiled. Her eyes were as bright as ever now. "I should have brought it by on your birthday, but I was in the middle of my bread making." I knew what that meant. Bread making was Grandma's excuse for her arthritis. Some days it was real bad. Grandma didn't tell anyone about it but we knew. Doctor Nowell had told ma one time when he dropped in to see Russ. Doc hadn't told ma to be gossipping, he was concerned about Grandma Ruby. I liked Doc Nowell. Pa said we were lucky to still have a country doctor that made house calls. Most of the good young doctors preferred busy cities and big hospitals. Grandma Ruby wouldn't see it that way if she ever knew he'd told us. We never told her and she continued to use her bread as an excuse. For some reason Grandma had a silly notion that arthritis was for only old people. She refused to admit she was getting old. In some ways she was worse than Mrs. Todd was. At least when it came to the subject of age. I ripped open the present, almost forgetting that I had lost an election today. I remembered the minute I lifted the lid off of the small box. I felt the burning sting of a tear for the second time in just a few hours. "Take it out, child." Grandma must not have seen my tears. I probably was the only one who knew they were there. I knew because of the burning |
