the life and times of jcristg: Pieces of me
My
paternal grandfather, C.M., was a Navy man and retired Dupont employee
who loved red meat as rare as you could cook it. And horseradish as hot
as you could make it. He grew the biggest, sweetest tomatoes in all of
Belvedere -- and probably surrounding North Augusta too. He smoked
cigars in the house on a daily basis and even now, I love the smell of
them. At Easter he drilled holes in the tops of plastic eggs, filled
the eggs with change, and hung them on the tree out in front of my
grandparents' house. We'd pull the eggs down right before we'd cut into
the coconut cake Sal made in the shape of an Easter bunny. Come to
think of it, Easter was one of my favorite holidays at the time.
C.M. was ornery and difficult and hard-headed; traits that my father, brother and I have all inherited to some degree. Sal never kept the house warm enough and she always had the front door open -- he always made sure to let her know he didn't like it. The nosy neighbor across the street drove him crazy because she was unable to mind her own business. When he and Sal would take McClain and me to McDonald's (we got to spin on the high bar chairs, don't you remember that?), he'd bring his own baggie of chopped onions. Those fast-food hamburger places just never quite put enough on his order, nor were they strong enough.
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