Grandmother

Over Thanksgiving me and the Veterans sat around wasted playing Truth or Truth, which is basically Truth or Dare, just with no Dares. Since the game only involves talking, it can be played sitting down. Or in other words, it is perfect for when you're drunk off your ass and/or trapped in a moving vehicle.

This time around someone asked what the one thing we each wanted to do with our lives was. The thing other people might judge us for, or think we're crazy for.

"I want to have seven children," I said without missing a beat.

'CAUSE I GOT THE BABY FEVER!

Really though, I do want to have a lot of kids. Yesterday if not sooner. But the only reason I throw out the number seven is because my grandmother had seven children, and how she lived her life is exactly how I want to live mine: as the ultimate nurturer. Seven children, followed by fourteen grandchildren, every one of which was there for her when she died.

My grandmother wore seven silver bangles on her left wrist for as long as I can remember. This Christmas, my aunt gave one of the silver bangles to each of the seven grandaughters. It was by far my favorite Christmas gift, INCLUDING Season 3 of Grey's Anatomy. I'm still getting used to the clink it makes every time I place my hand on my desk, but the fact that each clink reminds me of my grandmother makes it a welcome sound.

My aunt chose one with a swirly design for me. The inside is worn completely smooth. You can pick out the seven on my grandmother's wrist in the twenty-four year old photo I keep framed by my bed. A photo I love because it shows just how well-adjusted I've always been.

Check out my grandmother's tube-dress! Now you know why we called her 'Dottie the Body'!