Nana: A Thanksgiving Memory (Cough Syrup Testimonial #23)
By Buddy Lee
Copyright 2011 Buddy Lee
Smashwords Edition
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Thanksgiving. Over the hills and through the woods we went. To Grandmother's house. Nana. Every year the same thing. Brick-like loaves of dressing, gelatinous globules of glistening cranberry sauce, pound upon putrid pound of potato salad, and, of course, Nana’s special-recipe moisture free turkey. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
As things turned out, this year’s trip would truly offer me reason to give thanks. When we arrived, Grandma's house smelled of bountiful food and immanent death. The food simmered on the stove, and death sat on the chintz covered sofa in the form of Nana herself. Living on a prayer and a lung, Nana was hooked up to an oxygen tank, but, God bless her, that didn't stop the old bird from enjoying life to its fullest. No, not my Nana. Even with the clear plastic tubing that fed oxygen from the tank into her gnarled nose, Nana still chain-smoked the same unfiltered Kools she'd been huffing since the age of seven. When she saw me walk in, she pulled a well-gummed butt from her mouth and grinned at me toothlessly.