This is from 2006. For newcomers, I met, Scott when I was 15. We dated on and off for 17 years. Then we had a huge falling out that lasted about 12 years, before he surfaced on my blog and started writing there of all things. You can read his writing here: For Whom Should I Display My Soul? Here’s the bit, which I wrote while in Tucson, springing it on the blog who did not know I was out of town:
Yesterday I was hanging out with Scott. That’s right. I came to the desert (my home) for the weekend on an impulse. We’ve been driving around, scaring up all the ghosts like you wouldn’t believe. But never mind that. Stories for another day.
So Scott (a Cancer) is family to me obviously. What else could he be after 30 years? And we were hanging out. We had his laptop and he popped a cd in. “I wanted you to hear this,” he said.
“Ok,” I said.
I assumed it was going to be a recording of his playing (Scott is a pianist) but when it fired up, I heard people talking. Whaaaat? I quickly realized it was Scott’s voice, though it sounded kind of strange. But who was the other person?
“That’s my grandmother,” he said. “That’s Nana.”
My jaw dropped. Scott’s “nana” has been dead for 23 years! “You’re kidding,” I said.
“No. That’s her.”
“I’m a genius,” Scott boasts on the tape.
“You’re a jackass,” his nana answers.
I roared. I knew her, of course. They talk about other family members. They talk about sex, graphically. Scott would have been 20 years old at the time. They talk about various women he knew (who I also know) and eventually they talk about me!
“That Elsie…now she’s a nice girl,” she says.
“Yeah, yeah,” Scott answers, sounding all cocky.
She goes on goading him about me. Can you imagine this? What it’s like to hear this 23 years after the fact? They talk and talk and talk. They talk about homosexuality. Nana is as liberal as they come.
“You play better than Liberace,” she says.
“Goddamned right!” Scott answers.
His grandmother lovvvved Liberace.
They talk for about a half hour. “I’m 71,” she says. “Your mother says I’m 73…I’m 77,” she laughs. “Who gives a shit? Who gives a shit how old I am?”
They also talk at length about Scott’s sister, who introduced us. The conversation comes back to her again and again and here’s the thing:
A year later, a year after this conversation was taped, Scott’s sister was dead. She was 25 years old. Two years after that, Nana died.
So just imagine this. I’m sitting there hearing this and so is he. And we look at each other and what do you say? Nobody knows what’s coming. You just don’t know what turns your life will take.
wow. words fail.
Indeed. Wow.
well… what is that, if it isn’t power, death, and transformation around home, family, and emotion?
just wow.
*whistles*
wow indeed
How amazing, to hear such things after so many years…
Cool way out stuff man. Are you ok?
Aw, thanks for sharing Elsa. There is something very endearing about elderly people to me, probably because my own parents were considered “old” when I was born and growing up. I love reading stuff about them because it just seems inspiring to learn about the things they endure and how you think of their personality being one way when it’s really another.
I’m lacking in words right now. Pluto is two degrees off of my moon right now. A short while ago, a psychic I talk to once in a blue moon told me that a woman I’m close to is ill. I didn’t want to pursue it because I don’t know to whom she was referring. My heart breaks knowing that I, too, will most likely lose a woman close to me… I’m learning that my dearest relationships are with my girlfriends. My own mother passed many years ago.
I’m learning to brace myself for whatever Pluto brings. I have quite a few years of this because just as soon as he’s done running roughshod over my moon, he hits my DC.
Hindsight is 20/20.
This post is deeply moving.
I have voice messages from my Papa that I listen to. He tells me he loves me and how proud he is of me. And I listen to his cassette tapes telling stories of the war. Just listen to his voice, his laugh–wrap myself in his voice.
My parents (well, my mother) think this is borderline whackjob. Macabre. So, I have neglected to mention that I have their voices saved, too. 😉
I actually have a collection of tapes/cds spanning years and years of people I love speaking…and I always save a voicemail when there is something said or a timbre of voice that moves me.
I love this story. It ‘speaks’ to me. Thank you.
Thanks for sharing. Pluto hit my moon in Sag in the 11th.
The last several years have taught me that you just don’t know what will happen. Don’t take anything or anyone for granted.
i only wish i did the same w my parents who i miss dearly xxx
It occurred to me last night, I bet the bastard recorded me that day too, lol!
It is uncanny and strange, he would call his grandmother and record her on the phone, unbeknownst to her! He just thought she was a hoot! Anyway, I bet he recorded me that weekend, I just bet…