Six Years
The phone rang a lot to day at work. That's nothing new. One phone call was different. It was from Debbie. I answered the phone like I always do, "Good Afternoon, Brownie Brothers, How may I help you?" I've answered my cell phone like that a few times. Amway, the woman on the other end of the phone asked if Dave was in. I told her yes and then asked who was calling. Before she had answered I could tell the voice was familiar, but I didn't know why. She said "Debbie Brown" and my heart dropped. She was my grandma. She was my grandma until I was 10. I haven't talked to her in six years. I haven't been allowed to talk to her in six years. I paused before I said I would go get my grandfather and she asked who she was speaking to. I told her it was me and she sounded like she was about to cry on the phone. She asked me how I was doing and school and I told her thing were going well. She started to go off about how she still keeps Sean and I in her heart. She said she still has our pictures us and had never and will never forget about out. She still thinks about us all the times and wonders how we are doing and what we look like now. It was a ridiculously awkward conversation. When I was younger, I thought she was the best thing in the world. She was my best friend when I was younger. Since I've grown up, I've heard nothing but how horrible she was and how even now she's messing with my family. I don't really understand. I only have really fond memories of her. It is incredibly hard for me to believe anything they say about her. According to her, it is my choice if I want to continue conversation with her or not. According to my grandfather, I'm allowed no contact with her. I would love to talk to her and let her now I'm doing alright and I've grown up pretty well, but at the same time, I know it would only piss off my family if I started talking to her again. Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place. God, I really did have a fucked up childhood. the one adult I honest to God connected with was ripped away from me. I haven't been that close to any one in my family since. I haven't told my mom I talked to her. M dad just kept calling her a bitch and said I would never see my ring. Oh yea, my ring. My great grandpa Teddy bought a ring for his wife many years ago. A really nice diamond ring. When she died it was eventually gave to my grandma Debbie because she was the closest thing to a daughter there was. I was suppose to get it next. When my great grandfather died, I was the only grand daughter her truly understood existed. She doesn't want to give me the ring. I'm not sure why. She told me today the agreement she had with Grandpa Teddy was that I would get it when she died. I am now being told I will get it when I'm eighteen. She thinks I'm seventeen now, so maybe I’ll be seeing it in October. I guess I just have some really odd feelings about all of this. Everyone in my family hates her, so I've never been able to talk about it with anyone. I'm just confused.