Grandma French

French's grandmother passed away a couple of weeks ago; she was 98, and I haven't had the chance to really see how he was doing.  He had a pretty good relationship with her.  We used to go over to her apartment about once a month for lunch when we were in high school.  The only minor catch was that we had to bring her dimes for her March of Dimes collection. She made us shepherds pie every single time.  It was awesome.  Some kids at school ribbed us about hanging out with old people, but we were well fed and French was well loved by her.

She was really nice, but a bit funny.  French's grandmother gave him a fancy leather wallet on his birthday and Christmas every year.  So French was flush with wallets.  He had so many that he often gave me one after removing the crisp twenty she always included.

He was over last weekend for a party, and I brought it up.  Nothing doing; he would not talk about his grandmother.  All he talked about was how he'd recently broken up with a girl, then started to date a different one, only to find out that they were cousins.  Let's just say French is single now.  He had a few too many beers, and kept telling tales about the big blow-up that had occurred when his ex showed up at her cousin's house only to find French.

I was a bit disappointed, but he told it in a totally hilarious manner.  So I dropped it, and stopped being a downer by asking about his grandmother so much.

When everyone left I found a wallet, still in a box, with a little notice/prayer card from his grandmother's funeral on my kitchen table.