In a still-developing story out of Spokane, WA, it’s been reported that she worries, your grandmother.
“Your grandmother, you know she worries,” says your mom of 84-year-old Lois Beckett.
Sources close to the story report that it’s not totally clear what your grandmother is currently worried about but it could be anything ranging from current Covid death rates to how your boyfriend feels about your short haircut.
“I actually think she has an anxiety disorder that was diagnosed because of sexist psychotherapeutic practices in the 60s,” says an expert on your grandmother, your aunt Meg. “Or maybe it’s a response to feeling out of control for most of her life as a woman. Or maybe she’s just bored. Either way – she worries.”
Whatever the cause, there’s no doubt that she worries, your grandmother.
“Everyone seems to agree that my grandma is fretting constantly,” you say. “And seemingly as a family we’ve all just decided to legitimize and work around her worries instead of trying to confront or unpack them, so that’s fine I guess.”
Historically, your grandmother has been known to worry about any and all weather, the morality of the characters in any media she watches, you looking slutty, you not looking slutty enough, a strange sound her garbage disposal is making that no one else can hear, and the tackiness of her friends’ grandchildren’s’ engagement announcements.
“Her worry is so omnipresent that sometimes we weaponize it against each other,” you say. “It’s often obvious, like my mom projecting her desire for me to go to grad school onto Grandma, but the other night my little brother stopped us all from watching The Holiday by saying that Jack Black makes our grandma anxious, which I really don’t think is true.”
At press time, your grandmother was gazing out the window at passersby with a general expression of distress.