Mari

My husband and I moved in with my in-laws: his parents, his grandmother, and teenage brother. His nephew is also a regular, and many other relations drop by daily. It’s a heap more family than I’m used to having around, and I’m always grateful they’re as wonderful as they are, and as accepting too. Still, if you were to examine my life through the lens of a bad comedic sitcom, as I choose to do, you would undoubtedly find many cross-cultural miscommunications and comedic circumstances. Just think back to the episode in which I discovered my father-in-law had been using my toothbrush. Perfect material for a low-grade, 20 minute, comedic plot, no?

I have a favorite character on this show. Everyone calls her “Mari,” and she is 96 years old. She is my grandmother-in-law.

I rather like this woman, even though I rarely have a clue as to what she is saying to me. I’m pretty certain she has no concept of who I am or why I’m in the house all day, but she never fails to tell me to take a seat and to offer me the bananas and Pepsi that she squirrels away in her bedroom. Numerous times she has also offered to let me spend the night in her small bed with her, further support for my belief that she hasn’t a clue that I live in this house too. I haven’t, by the way, taken her up on her offer yet, but I’m sure it’s sincere.

She’s a funny one, though. She isn’t all generosity. We have to watch our things. Sometimes she takes objects from around the house and hides them in her room, where even my mother-in-law can’t find them. She’s fast, too. I watched her in action once and couldn’t hardly believe her speed or her stealth. She would make an excellent pickpocket, I think, and should we ever be in such dire need I may suggest this to my husband.

Things go missing, everyone looks for them, and then a week or two later they’ll resurface in Mari’s possession. Lighters, for example, or sometimes clothing. Once she took one of my flip flops. Just one though. My sister-in-law told me that one of her plastic aprons went missing, the kind barbers wrap around you during your haircut. Two weeks later the top part of the apron, the part that snaps around the neck, appeared in a wastebasket. Finally, they discovered Mari had been using the remainder of the “fabric” to create embroidered tortilla napkins.

And on the topic of embroidery, Mari still spends most of her time sewing, though she no longer uses needle or thread. She currently has a very lovely flower motif that she’s been working on for some time. Maybe three years, now.

She may seem like a kooky old lady, which I suppose she is, but she’s also tough as nails. About two years ago a cyclist knocked her over in the street. The fall broke her hip, but she was so determined to leave the hospital that it took two people to hold her down. While a broken hip so often leads to poor health and eventually the passing of life for the elderly, this woman is still up and around all day long. She even manages to carry a small chair with her to the back yard so she can sit and enjoy the sun while she embroiders. She sweeps up fallen leaves and flowers from the yard, and if we don’t stop her in time, she takes on more difficult chores too, like tidying up stacks of bricks or moving around my husbands tools. She’s tough.

Mari keeps an eye on everything and everyone. When someone enters the house, she calls out to whoever else is home that there’s a visitor or a customer. It startles many people, because she sits inconspicuously behind a brick pillar. I like to imagine a would-be thief sneaking into the house while we’re all distracted in the back room. Suddenly, Mari would call out from behind her pillar and the thief’s plans would be spoiled. Then again, she might just offer him some bananas and Pepsi.

Yes, Mari is my favorite character on the show. She’s funny and quirky, but kind and tough, too. I wish I could understand even half of what she says to me. But then, maybe that wouldn’t make for such a funny show.

Finally, let me share this thought with you. I’ve concluded that it’s often ultimately easier to decide that things are funny rather than irritating. And when one is all alone in this opinion, it’s helpful to imagine a laugh track playing inside of one’s head.