Jimmy didn’t do it. He didn’t steal those billions of dollars. Trust me, I know. I am his grandmother and he was with me that whole week a couple of years ago because I had a sore throat and I needed love and attention. That and Jimmy’s special tea with honey. That usually cures any sore throat in just 24 hours. That time, however, it took me a whole week to get better.
And when the housing bubble burst? Jimmy was at my funeral. My first funeral. Funny thing really, that the doctors thought I had died when I had just sneezed really hard and knocked myself out.
It’s a little unfortunate that my little mishaps have so often fallen on Jimmy’s shoulders, because he’s such a fine boy. Always has been. He always puts his dear old Grandma first.
It seems that I’ve always been old, already when Jimmy was in first grade and missed the choir practices an entire semester because I slipped on the stairs and broke my hip, and had my rehabilitation on Fridays at 1 pm.
Most of all, though, it was my car that got him into trouble. My old Buick. It was a great car and it was built to last, but it sure had its problems.
Many a morning it just wouldn’t start. Ever since my second husband – Jimmy’s Grandpa Jack – passed away, bless his soul, there was nobody who could help me get it started in the winter. Except for Jimmy, that is. He wouldn’t even leave for school before he could get it started.
And we must have blown a tire at least a dozen times. Oh, we’ve had some adventures, Jimmy and I. There was a time when he had just got the Buick started, God knows how but he was always the clever one, and had driven for just a few blocks when we blew a tire. He patched it with tape so that I could drive him to the train, but the train was stuck because a tiny, tiny, tornado blew my hat onto the tracks and since it was my Sunday hat – I don’t know why I was wearing it on a Tuesday – and Jimmy went down to get it, and the train had to make an emergency stop and, well, it was a mess.
I think that was one of the few times that he was really late for school, but I was always careful to write him a note to give to the teacher, explaining what had happened. I always wrote notes to people so that he wouldn’t get unnecessarily blamed.
One time, my little dog – Grace, she’s passed away, too – ate Jimmy’s homework. Oh, how we looked all over for it, and Jimmy was all beside himself because it had been his algebra homework, and we all know how much he loved algebra, and he had worked on that homework so hard. And then finally, there was little Gracie, my little white angel, lying on the floor, in a pile of paper. Jimmy’s math book.
I guess all that math made Gracie a little sick, because she then happened to throw up all over Jimmy’s English homework, and I had to throw the book away.
He may be a lot of things, Jimmy, but he’s no liar. So when he said that he couldn’t have been in that hotel with that, that, well, woman, he couldn’t have been there, because he was there with me. I had locked myself in the bathroom in that hotel, and couldn’t get out, embarrassing as it was.
I think it takes a vicious and a mean heart to think that somebody would use their old grandmother as an excuse to get out of a relationship. Yes, I am looking at you, Crystal. I sent a note with Jimmy explaining that he had been at my wedding. The fact that she didn’t believe it literally broke my heart, and I had to spend a week in the hospital, which made Jimmy miss a few days of work as well.
I believe Jimmy’s bank’s bankruptcy hearing was last Tuesday. It was unfortunate that we didn’t realize earlier that I’m allergic to cats. Last Monday, I got another one of those sneeze attacks and on Tuesday, there was my second funeral. Jimmy was by my side all day.
As told to James G. Lyer, CEO and President, Acme Bank Inc.