puta de mierda

My grandmother has always had a foul mouth, and despite her incredible good-heartedness, has always disapproved of everything. It dawned on me this morning that I might be the only witness to her cussing, screaming rampages. A few months back my mom was horrified when she heard Carmen insulting Marisel and saying words like culo or calling her a whore. I told her - 'but Mom, she's always been like that. It's a good sign. It just means that she's being herself." I was surprised that this was news to her, but I didn't think too much about it. Then this morning my aunt was telling me how surprised she was to hear my grandmother talk like that. She was shocked, and that's when I realized that I am maybe the only one who knows. I wonder if she was as angry, belligerent, disapproving and foul mouthed in Argentina as she was when I was growing up.
She came to the states, suburban Detroit more specifically, when she was 60 years old. She's been living with us ever since. That's was a big change: she came not knowing any English, and with the intention of only staying for six months. At around the six month mark, her mother passed away, so she went back to Argentina to make all the arrangements. I however was having none of that and at six months old decided to stop growing, get sick and make my parents life hell. She came back to the states soon after and 26 years later here she is.

So her life took a pretty serious shift in direction. Maybe that was enough to make her suspicious and judgemental about everything - especially changing teenagers. But I think there's something else going on, some remnant of her life that has left her feeling unsettled and guilty for all this time. My aunt was questioning this morning what she must have been like as a teenager, that maybe something in her adolescence prompted her later mistrust of young people. Sadly, whatever that might have been has been lost. Left to speculation and the spotty memories of her surviving siblings, all of whom were probably too young to know anyways.

Maybe it's her falut that I have such a sailor's vocabulary now. I curse in English of course, but violent language knows know borders.

***

My parents are supposed to come back from China tomorrow night and that means we can go home on Friday. It hasn't been so bad of a week after all, and I really have to thank my aunt for that. Manly I am looking forward to sleeping in our bed and not on a skinny piece of foam on the floor.
I have a killer pain in my right calf so I skipped the run this morning. I am feeling a little antsy for it now, but maybe just maybe, it will feel better and I can sneak out of work early and run in the afternoon sunshine. At least I can fantasize about running while I'm locked in this fluorescent cage.