Afternoons With Gram

by Lisa Yohon, in honor of her grandmother, Verna Apel. Birthdate: 11/3/07

     Gram never knocked. She had her own key, and she just walked right in the house. She lived behind us in her trailer, and every day she would watch the clock and wait for my school bus to drop me off. I think she would peek out the window, watch me hop off the bus, and run up the driveway just to make sure I got in the house OK. Every day she would come over to check on me (even when I was a senior in high school), and every day it was the same time, 3:30. I would get home from school, run into the house, and turn on our favorite soap opera, General Hospital. Before there was even a time for a commercial to come on, I would hear the back door open and close. Then I would hear her turning the key to the door to the house. The door would open, and Gram would yell "hi." Daisy, our dog, always heard her too and had to be the first one to greet her. I was much too absorbed in the TV program to come out to the kitchen right away, but at the first commercial I would casually walk out and say hi. Gram already had some hot water boiling on the stove and was tearing open a pocket of Swiss Miss hot chocolate. She would ask me about my day as she prepared me a snack, and made the hot cocoa. I gave only quick responses because I had to get back to the living room and the exciting lives of Frisco and Felicia. Gram would come in with me, and we would watch the last half hour together. Gram always liked to tell the characters what to do and how to solve their problems. We would debate with each other what the best way was for Luke to escape from prison or how awful it was for Anna to be cheating on her husband.

     On certain days after General Hospital was over, Gram and I would play cards. Kings On The Corner was our favorite game. Gram always let me win. She would deal the cards, and we would eye each other from across the kitchen table with competitive glances. It was during these games when I could hide behind the cards that I would tell her how my day had really been. I asked her for advice on boys and what to do when I had an argument with one of my girlfriends. Over this table I told her I was failing my tenth-grade English class. "How am I going to tell Mom?" I asked. Gram always had the perfect answer.

     We could keep playing cards until Mom came home or I had a phone call from one of my friends. I would have dinner or do homework. Dad would come home, and Gram would go back to her house. I would spend the evening with my parents, but three thirty to five o'clock was my special time with Gram.