Mom: It seems like since I’ve gotten this CR-V I don’t drive as fast as I used to. I mean, in my Camry sometimes I’d look down and I’d be flying down the interstate. But right now, here I am going 50 in a 55. (Looks at Nanny) Or is that just me getting old?
Mom: I know you’re one of those who goes 45.
Nanny: 45 is about as fast as I wanna go.
To the woman who packs a week early for a two-night Thanksgiving stay…
To the woman who is a breast cancer survivor…
To the woman who just cannot get enough Gaither videos or The Waltons episodes…
To the woman who found a way to carry on after her husband’s passing more than 27 years ago…
To the woman who has a little bit of ice cream for breakfast on Saturday mornings…
To one of the strongest, funniest, classiest women I know…
I say, “Happy 87th birthday, Nanny!”
Saturday’s discussions about where to dine for lunch inevitably turns to the lack of places to eat in Pickens and then to the restaurants that are coming soon, namely Zaxby’s — which, due to my grandmother’s trouble pronouncing her Xs, turns into Zappy’s.
Me: The article I saw in the paper says it’s going to look like a red barn on the outside.
Mom: I think the one in Myrtle Beach is like that.
Nanny: Well, from what I can tell about the picture, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find the front door.
Mom: I think we can help you with that, Momma. We’ll go with you the first time.
A little background: Since I’m a heathen and don’t go to church anymore, I had forgotten that Southern Baptist churches all seem to have a T.E.L. Sunday School class, which (without trying to be mean here) has members who are in the “twilight” of their lives, so to speak. And no, I don’t mean they’re vampires or consider themselves Team Edward or Team Jacob. Anyhoo, no one seems to know what the T.E.L. stands for; however, my 84-year-old grandmother is a member of the class at her church, and yesterday, I learned they have made up their own slightly morbid version of the name.
Mom: Does the T.E.L. really stand for The End of the Line?
Nanny: I don’t know what it stands for, and I don’t know who came up with The End of the Line. That’s just what I always heard it called.
Regardless, sounds like a Sunday School class I’d rather not join.