At my grandmother's memorial service, i recalled my most striking memory of her. The day she was almost wrong.
I'd gone on leave before tranferring to Scotland, so i visited my mom in Atlanta and the rest of my family in Idaho.
Mom had been looking at time shares and she as a little upset at how often people misused 'unique.' Something can't be slightly unique, so there's no real way to say 'very unique.' It is or it isn't.
When i got to Grandma and Grandpa's, one of the first things they asked was 'how's your mother?'
I said, "She's a little ticked because i came up with an adverb for 'unique.' " And i kept walking towards the bathroom.
Now, Grandma had been an English teacher for longer than i'd been alive. And Grandma was never, ever wrong.
Ever.
So after i dropped that little bon mot, i noticed the skies got a little darker.
The air stilled, the house settled, and grandpa's footsteps as he withdrew from the line of fire were a soft shuffle across the linoleum.
I turned and saw Grandma in a classic pose. i wasn't aware that grandma had ever seen a samurai movie. but there she was, lacking only a katana, ready to leap into battle and cut my head off.
"Well," she said. "We're waiting." I don't know who 'we' was because grandpa was out in the kitchen headed for the back door, and picking up speed.
But i faced her fully and said, "Presently."
Her head whipsawed back and forth for a second. Then, because Grandma Was Never Wrong, she took it and owned it.
"Ah," she said. "Well, when you think of it THAT way, then several come to mind."
By 'several,' she meant three. Because three is what she came up with right then and there. At dinner, she told me four more.
At breakfast, she had a final seven.
And even when she was deep in Alzheimer's, just before her death, she's sometimes look at me suspiciously and say "to our knowledge," or "locally."
Of course, by that time, she'd also look at me suspiciously and say 'buck toothed elephant,' so, take the rest with a grain of salt.
But that was grandma.