How I Met Your Mother: Conversations With My Grandmother Pt. 3

Last night, I was in Queens at my grandmother’s house once again. My mother and her were watching A Walk To Remember and I was less than enthused to participate this go round. I played around on my phone until 8 PM rolled around because all I wanted to do was watch the first football game (Even if it was the Cowboys).

Around when it was time to go and the movie ended, my mother asked my grandmother “How did you and dad meet?” She paused and thought about it for a second. She couldn’t remember exactly how but she recalled that they met through a friend off theirs in Hartsville, SC a good sixty something years ago. She said “One time he wrote a letter. There were two Ernestines at my school and he didn’t know it. It was one of the proudest days of my life when we both came outside and he said you the other Ernestine “I wasn’t looking for you.” And that was that.” She beamed.

It reminded me of some time ago before my grandfather had passed away and I asked him a similar question with my grandmother and him sitting at the dinner table. He was three years older than her. And while he wasn’t one to show how he felt too often he said with a nostalgic yet lovingly smile “I liked em young.”

It immediately took me back to when I met Timile. I don’t remember exactly how we met, but we were both in a college organisation and she was the shy quiet girl who always had a smile on her face. I thought she was cute, but she wasn’t my type. I don’t really like the shy quiet types. Some months later during the next semester we flirted a little bit. I’m a huge flirt so that want necessarily ground breaking that I did, but it was the look in her eyes as she flirted back. Once I noticed that, I was reluctant to continue our back n forth because I had reservations. However, she saw past that and for a good two months pursued me until I gave in and said “Alright.” Smart girl.

I think that was one of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from Timile: being incredibly persistent. With just about anything I’m pretty good at that but if things look a certain way then after a while I just chalk it up to “It wasn’t meant for me so oh well.”

Seven years later, my grandmother abd I are having a conversation and she said that at this point in her life all she has is memories. While her nurse is young and always has new stories to tell all she can do is look back at her life and talk about what was. I related because a lot of times that’s how I feel. I do feel like an old man whose life has somewhat been on pause with some stories like that about the past and spending my time with someone who’s mission on earth was complete.

But I know one day Cydney will ask me how did her mother and I met. And I’ll be ready to tell that story with a nostalgic look like my grandfather once did years ago.

The other thing that happened was my grandmother said to me “It’s Sunday. I thought you’d be in the city today.”