Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The Prodigal Stella

Disclaimer: Before anyone reads this, they must understand that we have paid our full respects and I was encouraged greatly by all my family members to write this blog.

Stella is my beloved car. For those of you close to me, you have undoubtedly heard me talk about my wondermous car, or perhaps even taken a ride inside her cozy powder blue, leather interior. Unbeknownst to most of you, I inherited this car from my lovely great grandmother (the one we said goodbye to this past weekend).

Although perhaps "inherited" is not the right word. In her eyes, I stole Stella. Now, you must understand that in her later years, granny was a fully capable human being, but her mind was not all there. As sad as it was at times, usually her rants about her missing vehicle were quite more than hysterical and truly enjoyed by all the recipients of her spiteful remarks. Even though granny fully relented her driving privileges when she moved into her assisted living home, she didn't remember it that way for long. And even though granny agreed to sign over the car to nana and papa, so they could give it to me for Christmas, that's not the way she ever chose to see it.

We all became evil in her eyes (but only with respect to the car. She loved us dearly in all other conversation topics). First she got mad at nana for stealing her car. Then she got mad at me for not bringing it back to her, even though I was so close to her. Then she got mad at mom and would say "boy, I wish Stephanie would bring my car back." She had no idea that she'd handed over the car willingly, but truly convinced herself that we had stolen it from her, only to make her life miserable. Every single day she would write letters to nana (sometimes two or three times per day) saying how much she missed her car and how she wished we'd return it to her because we were just being mean. She threatened to go buy a new car (which I believe she tried to do on a few occassions, only to find out that the doors on her home had a code that only the nurses knew, and for some reason they just wouldn't let her go buy a new car)!

Every time I've seen nana and papa for the past three years, they've had a new story about granny and "her" car. If you're reading this and you're thinking "wow these people are terrible", trust me, you would have laughed had you been there. And I truly believe, now that granny has full capacity back to her body, that she's up there laughing about this with us.

However, even I have lines.

This past weekend, as we were leaving the funeral, Kevin and I were getting ready to leave and come back to Indiana. Mom looks at me and says, "I hope Stella doesn't die. Wouldn't that just be too ironic for words." And then she laughed...for a very uncomfortable amount of time. Granted, it was funny...but COME ON MOM!!!! Then we began to contemplate the true irony of the situation...granny had been begging us to bring her car back to Columbia since we "took it" from her. It hasn't been to Columbia since it left, until the day that she passed away.

Granny went home, and Stella went home. I think she knew Stella was there, and I think it made her happy :)

1 comment:

*Lindsay*Jordan* said...

Those stories were unbelievably funny... she even told me to steal it from you a time or two...