i swear i'm not 15 anymore, but i am argumentative.

first of all, i hope that everyone had an amazing holiday and got everything you wanted from that creepy old man who breaks into people's homes to leave gifts under the tree and eats your food and drinks milk that has been left out to grow warm ... next year i'm going to skip a step and just leave out a bowl of cottage cheese. mmm.

so, this holiday weekend my father and i travelled up to pennsylvania to visit family, namely my grandmother and then my aunt, uncle and cousins. friday night i left work and proceeded to my father's place where i stayed the night, bags packed, ready to go. we left a little after 5 am for the 4 1/2 hour trek to where my family lives. as with any road trip my father and i partake, we end up arguing about something. i love my father to death but he is stubborn, which is probably where i get my own stubborn streak. so, on the way up we start arguing about something. i can't even remember what it was, that's how trivial it is, however, i knew without a shadow of a doubt that i was in the right and of course i'm going to stick to my guns and defend myself against being called a liar by my father.

as we argue, my father gets more and more angry and i realize that i should just give up and swallow a fair amount of my pride and end this fight by acquiescing to him and telling him he's right. so ... i do just that. the argument is over ... for me, at least, but my father has to get in the last word.

my father: you just love to argue. you're argumentative.

touche, father o' mine ... touche. so, i basically sat in silence for the rest of the trip--which at this point was only about another 30 minutes--brooding and being silently angry answering his queries or comments with a grunt.

as with every argument with my father, we make up soon after and forget that anything ill had transpired. we get to our bed and breakfast--the mainstay in saxonburg, PA--which is now owned by a very cool gay couple who did amazing work with the place definitely improving it. we get our rooms, drop off our bags and we're off to visit my grandmother.

my grandmother, as some of you may know, has alzheimer's and it's progressed fairly far and she's mid to late stage 2. she still thinks i'm 15 and constantly asks me my age and is always surprised when i tell her. well, this trip i have a beard. i'm not sure i look forward to her reaction as 15 year olds shouldn't have full beards (no, not a fu man chu or mountain man ... just a light dusting of facial hair that has stepped beyond goatee and soul patch.) we get there and as expected, she doesn't recognize me at first. which is fine. she soon realizes it's me.

g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes. i love you.
g.ma: oh, i love you too, sweetheart.

approximately 5 minutes passes by.

g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes, grandma. ::inward sigh::

to attempt to make a long story short, she asks me repeatedly over the course of my visit and i try so hard not to get frustrated but it's really hard not to. she is a shadow of her former self and i always get so depressed when i go visit. i hate seeing her like this, though there are some funny moments ... such as the following exchange.

after about an hour into our visit, the nursing home is having a flutist come in and play christmas music and we urge my grandmother to go as we don't want to deprive her of some enjoyment. otherwise, we'll sit in silence. so, her friend rose talks her into going so she does. she's gone about an hour and when she comes back we see her walking down the hall with rose. this is their conversation:

rose: oh, [g.ma], you have visitors.
g.ma: i do?
rose: yes. ::she points at us. apparently her alzheimer's isn't as far as my g.ma's::
g.ma: ::peers at us from down the hall:: they're here for me?
rose: yes, [g.ma].
g.ma: ::leans in and "whispers" to rose:: i don't even know who they are.

sometimes you just have to find humor in things. so, our visit with her and the rest of my family was nice and we came back home sunday evening. i got to my place a little after 7:30 and crashed. monday, i did nothing. tuesday i spent christmas with my father at his place. it was a good time. i got there for breakfast and then spent the entire day with him, getting home at about 11:30 pm last night. i was exhausted. my father surprised me with a nearly complete set of tools, complete with toolbox. i was taken aback. i feel so butch now.

i felt horrible that i wasn't able to get him any presents, but money is tight right now. i love my father so much and i would do anything for him. he's a good man, charlie brown.

so, how was everyone's holiday? get anything good?