The Interview

                                                          The Interview

　

When my grandaughter asked to interview me for her homework

assignment it was flattering and also satisfying because I wanted so much

to share with them some of my childhood memories of historic events such

as Pearl Harbor Day.

And what could be better than being around a dinner table with all of them,

children and grandchildren, eating, talking, laughing and keeping us all up

to date with their lives. My first grandchild was expecting my first great -

grandchild… it’s poetic! Two others had graduated college, and the rest

were college students while my youngest had just entered high school.

We had just cleared the table, had the first load in the dishwasher and were

putting out the dessert, tea and cakes, melons and candy. As usual I

didn’t realize how much of a chocoholic I was until the table was set with

so much chocolate and perhaps not enough ‘fruity’ things; apples, sure but

they were in a pie (does that count?)… sliced watermelon, any nutritional

value there? Was I encouraging sugar addiction in my beloved future

generations?

Was I going to hear about this from my daughters?     

“So Grandma,”, said Emily, pen and notebook in hand, “First

question, What is your favorite color?”

Not too meaty a question, I thought but, okay, she‘s starting slow and

building up, “I like blue, and I also like yellow, so yes, yellow is my

favorite.”

She wrote into her notebook. “What is your favorite season.?”

“Ah! The Fall, when it’s clear and crisp, when the leaves are changing

color and…”

“Next, Grandma what is your favorite movie?”

“Easy, ‘The Sound of Music‘. I leaned back, relaxed, the meal was good.

They loved the roast chicken with potatoes and the Mid-Eastern salads

were always a treat for them.

“… the scenery…”I continued…“Julie…’

“Next, who is your favorite actor?”

Why was she rushing me? “Kevin Costner, did you all see him…?

“Who is your favorite singer?”

“John Denver because …”

“ Who is your favorite grandchild?”

The question was like a lightening bolt crashing through the ceiling.

Everyone and everything in the room came to a halt, the eating, pouring,

slicing, chewing, dunking…even the whistling teapot became silent.

My first thought was at how smoothly and cleverly Allison had slipped

that question in with the other innocent ones…another Barbara Walters,

in the making?

Thirteen pairs of eyes were on me. Seven pairs were the grandkids. The

rest were my three children and their spouses who also seemed interested in

my response. Did they think if they stared hard enough they could read my

mind???

“Oh!” I jumped up, “I forgot the strawberries!”

“No, you stay, I’ll get them.” said my daughter Debbie. Two of my

grandkids were hers.

Fifteen year old Haley took the plate from her mother and set each

strawberry along the edge of the watermelon platter, carefully

placing the pointed ends out, a la Martha Stewart.

“So Grandma, what’s your answer?” asked Emily.

How many times, I wondered, has that question been asked since time began

by millions…billions of children?

“My answer is…” I began, looking around the table at my loved ones,

the very same that had just wolfed down my delicious meal and starting

in on dessert while they put me in the hot seat. “My answer is…”

“Grandma, do you have any honey for the tea?” asked Natalie.

“Ssh, don’t interrupt her,” said Bonnie, “she’s thinking.”

“I’m not thinking, there’s nothing to think about! Natalie, the honey

 is in the cabinet over the sink.”

 I stood up. “Now listen, all of you. I have no favorite. I love you all

equally."

Everybody burst into laughter, “Ok Grandma“… “Yeah, sure“… “Sure

'equally' ”

Lenny came over to me, his 18 year old body had developed into a man’s and

so did his confidence. “Just name someone Grandma, we won’t be angry.

Right?” He looked around the table at his siblings and cousins.

Neil was my 14 year old future defense attorney, “Leave Grandma alone,

she told us what she thinks,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. I

was his underdog.

Again, my own children were strangely quiet.

The phone rang, “Should I answer it?” asked Natalie.

“No,” I said, “we know who it is, they call at dinnertime, they’re doing

surveys, selling things, local politicians…”

"It’s Nana” she said reading the ID screen. She handed me the phone.

‘Nana’ was my mother, 97 years old, still living at home and up to date on

family news. “How are they all, finished with dinner and having desert?”

“Yes Mom, and Emily is interviewing me for her homework.”

“Let me talk to her” said Emily, “Nana. I asked Grandma a question and

she won’t answer it.”

“I did answer it!” I insisted. “Give me the phone. Mom, they want to

know …‘who is my favorite grandchild.’”

My mother burst into laughter, “Oh, that one. Well, it’s easy. Tell them

that you ‘love them all 'equally'. That’s what we told you…it always works.”

It always works?Memories flooded back…no, let’s not open that can of worms.
“I did,” I said in a lowered voice, “They don’t believe me.”

“I’ll tell you what to…”

‘Mom, you can’t hear me? Check your hearing aid batteries.” I said, loudly.

“Nana can’t hear me” I announced, “I’ll talk to her in the den. Don’t

anybody leave!” As if they would, I thought.

My mother and I spoke to her for only two minutes, “Call me later.” she said.

Back in the dining room they were all waiting for me. I poured myself a cup

of hot tea and took the chocolatest chocolate on the table. I deserved it!

“Ok, Nana sends her love, and this is my answer to Emily's question,

 “You are all my favorite, each and every one of you!” I spoke slowly

emphasizing each word and looking into their eyes, one by one. “You are

all my favorite!"

It took less than a minute for my words to take effect, and then like magic

the room came to life again. And all I did was change four words,

turn the sentence inside out.

With all the education in that room, Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees and a

PHD, a 97 year old woman who never finished High School had earned

her LE Degree the old fashioned way, in Life Experience.

So we put that subject to rest for now at least. Of course my granddaughter

Bonnie who was just starting to have a family would have her turn to deal

with it sometime in her future.

                                               THE END