I remember when

my great grandmother

came to visit us

from the Old Country.

***

It was my nana’s

first trip abroad, and

her first trip anywhere

on her own.

***

My great grandfather

had died a year earlier

at the grand old age of

one hundred & nine,

when he was accidentally

crushed to death by

his own hat.

***

Fortunately for my nana

they had managed to save

a small fortune.

***

My great grandfather

never trusted banks, so

he kept all of his money

hidden in his mattress,

& he kept his mattress

in a money-market

account, in the hopes

that one day,

God willing, they would

have accrued enough

interest to buy

themselves something

comfortable to sleep

on.

***

But now

my great grandmother

used that money

to travel to the states

to begin a life anew.

***

Problem:

Nana spoke not a

word of English,

and we, in turn, spoke

not a word of

Old Country.

***

Fortunately, my father

came up with a novel

solution, which came to

him after a night spent

watching Marx Brothers

films.

***

Like, Harpo Marx,

our nana could learn to

communicate with a

horn!

***

Problem: the only

horn we had was the

horn attached to my

father’s Cadillac.

***

This was solved by

moving my great grandmother

out of the back cottage

and into the garage.

***

And over time, she became

quite adept at communicating

with the car-horn.

***

What follows is a brief list of

what each car-honk meant.

***

One car honk: Can somebody bring old granny her tobacco?

Two car honks: Old granny is still waiting on her tobacco.

Three car honks: Did every-body forget about old granny?

Four car honks: Old granny is taking the caddy out to buy tobacco

***

Then came the holidays

and with relatives arriving

we knew we had to find a

better solution …

*** 

End of Part One

---

Honk-honk!