Grandma loves musical toys, the stranger the better. The current winner of her affections is her Purple People Eater, which is bizarre and weird and hilarious, because you haven’t really experienced life if you haven’t watched an 89 year old jam out to that song. The other morning she was really crabby (why does she have to get out of bed? She doesn’t have a job?). Dancing with the Purple People Eater was the only thing that improved her mood.
A few days ago we were watching TV together, me reading Mansfield Park while narrating an episode of Leave it to Beaver I have seen a hundred times, her coming in and out of watching it and simply staring into space. Then she turned to me with an excited look on her face and told me she had just watched a show about how to make Purple People Eaters.
I hadn’t seen this show, as far as I was knew Leave it to Beaver was still playing on the TV. However, I also think that my grandma had seen this show about making Purple People Eaters. To her it was as real as the show I was fairly confident I was watching. Why should I disagree? Our realities are all a little different from one another. We will always remember things a little differently and have slightly different perspectives. Why should this be any different?
Grandma thinks I live in Jupiter and increasingly refers to me as “Rebecca of Sunny Brooke Farm” and asks me if I have gotten all the farm work done. I often come home from work and tell her stories about milking cows and chasing goats. Its unclear how much of the stories we tell each other are fiction for her and how much are reality. Sometimes she laughs at my stories and says, “We tell each other lots of jokes.” Other times she thanks me for being such a hard worker. Somethings are reality for both of us, I do actually have a sign on my bedroom door that says Jupiter. Other things like me milking the cows every morning are more questionable.
I don’t mind all of this at all, its actually really fun, its how we connect and bridge the two separate worlds our minds live in. And as long as we are having fun, who cares which reality we are inhabiting.