Little Acons – No. 59

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2 thoughts on “Little Acons – No. 59”

  1. Those fake tears. My grandmother put on a show of martyrdom so intense I’ve never come across it since then. She would literally run from the table in the midst of any dinner; screaming and crying, fake tears flooding from some minor criticism or whatever set her off; leaving the rest of us oblivious to what had caused this dramatic turn of events. We, as her inner circle of family knew her well enough not to be shocked, but her admiring friends who looked upon her as this great painter were deeply worried; and the scene that followed always played out the same way. Grandmother kicking, screaming, manipulatively crying on her bed and all of us standing around her trying to comfort her, apologising.

    I was always fascinated by her show. I had some distance there, she never really got to me the way my mother did. I was scared of her, but I never felt any kind of love for her. So I used to study her, scrutinise her while she put on this drama, crying with her hands over her face, refusing to look at anyone, and I noticed that she was actually looking through her fingers time and time again to see the reactions of her accused bystanders. Or rather her audience. What a nut job honestly!

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