"Daddy you need to stop going to those places. There full of freaks and derelicts."
"So sayeth the uninformed."
"You're an educated man, what could you find fascinating with a bunch of drunks?"
My father lowered his head over his plate as if studying the molecular makeup of mashed potatoes. He stacked his arms in front of his plate guarding it from the oncoming storm. Grandfather brought his napkin to his mouth as he finished chewing. He peered over his glasses at my mother. "Mary Beth Alison, of all the stereotypical things you could say."
"It's Morrison, daddy," she interrupted.
Grandfather folded his napkin and placed it atop his plate. He cleared his throat. "You may bully your way with your husband and frighten your son into submission, but those shenanigans won't work with me."
"All I'm saying there's better way to spend your time."
"I see I wasted a lot of good money putting you through school. You've mastered pseudo elitism."
"You know, I really resent your remarks."
"So what. What makes you any better?"
"I don't believe you."
"Answer the goddamned question," his voice rose.
"I would never carry on in public."
"That's right," Grandfather said rising. "You keep it behind closed doors." He slipped into his army coat. "I'm off to laugh with the sinners."
I tried not to smile.
"I'll pray for you," she yelled after him. "Can you believe him?" mother complained to the room. "Three weeks ago he almost lost me and now he has the audacity to say such things." Turning to me she continued, "I never met such a self- centered person."
I shrugged and retreated to my room.
***
My Grandfather was eulogized as a revolutionary. "A man before his time, a pathfinder for succeeding generations" the young Californian 'minister' touted, "daring to jump head first while his peers timidly tested the waters." My mother groaned at this comment, considering the way he died, I didn't blame her. "Let us take solace that brother Stanley lived an active and adventurous life, full of many climatic events." Many of the solitary women who populated the church bowed their heads. Among them I noticed the flight attendant I met at the Philadelphia Airport. "Your Grandfather was a wonderful man," she said after the service.
"Who the hell was that?" mother bemoaned.
"Mrs. Abernathy, you know, his neighbor before he moved," I lied.