“Don’t let us forget that the causes of human actions are
usually immeasurably more complex and varied than our subsequent explanations
of them.”
Last night I couldn’t remember the maiden name of the
grandmother who I’m named after. I had to look it up today. As the two oldest
sisters, I grew up with my sister M (heh) in a big house with lots of siblings,
sharing a room with Grandma.
My first memory of Grandma was when she fell down the
basement stairs when I was a toddler. I remember this not because she broke her
hip but because she allegedly tripped on a toy fire truck my big brother had
left on the stairs. Even as a toddler I thought this strange because the truck
wasn’t one of those matchbox toys. It was as big as a shoe box. So it got me
wondering why she wasn’t looking where she was going.
It got me wondering way back when she fell because I
remember standing at the top of the stairs. She must have made a bit of noise
going down and landing. I must have been toddler, so in fairness to Grandma, I
was closer to the ground standing up.
Whether she fell or was pushed will remain one of life’s mysteries, like why another of
my sisters, M (heh), likes socks so much.
