Such a Tender Face

my grandmother is sitting on the couch
in the last living room of her life
my mother sits beside her
and there I am
only inches away
in a very soft chair
the old chair that used to be grandpa’s
where my grandmother never sits
and neither does my mother
but I don’t mind
the chair doesn’t scare me
not the way grandpa did

the three of us are watching tv
though I suspect my mother isn’t
paying close attention
she might be planning what she’ll cook for dinner
or thinking about shoes

and grandma is paying even less attention
she has a library book open in her lap
War and Peace  . . . again
she’s read it many times before
in two different languages
so she only looks up in the direction of the tv
from time to time

she can do two things at once
so can I
I learned this from her

but on this day I am doing only one thing
I am watching the television and nothing else
it is a dumb show
where people embarrass themselves in front of an audience

it’s not the Jerry Springer show
grandma would never stand for that
she considers him a buffoon
she would call him a putz but she doesn’t use that word
my mother would call him a putz but she doesn’t
actually know who Jerry Springer is

maybe we are watching the Maury Povich show
we don’t like Maury too much (he’s no Phil Donohue
but after all, who is?)
still, if Maury’s show comes on no one will jump up
and change the channel

there is no remote control in grandma’s apartment
if the tv came with one she probably threw it away

so there we are in the living room
the tv is on
and the next guest is brought out onto the stage
he is a man who cannot walk unassisted
a young man, probably in his 20s
and he weighs more than 600 pounds

two burly men, dressed in black
stand on either side of him and prop him up

another man, even more burly, stands behind and pushes
the 600 pound man forward

audience members gasp
so loudly that my mother looks over at the tv
grandma puts her finger in War and Peace to hold her place
and looks up
I am already staring at the screen

the 600 pound man sits down on a special chair
that’s been brought out onto the stage just for him
a chair the size of 2 or 3 regular chairs

my mother, thinking to protect her mother
tells me to get up and change the channel

grandma says shaaa, Evela

my mother has forgotten that her mother
does not need to be protected
from the sight of human suffering

the 600 pound man begins to talk
he has a gentle high-pitched voice
he sounds like a woman
my mother asks is that a woman?
shaaa, Evela, my grandmother says again

by now she has closed War and Peace
she is giving her full attention to the 600 pound man
she is leaning forward a bit
coming closer, an inch or two, to the man
we are watching on the screen

then she says
he has such a tender face
he has a beautiful nose

this is, perhaps, the 100th time that I recognize my grandmother as my
Buddhist teacher

Who Can Tell?

i’m in the kitchen with grandma
she is braiding the challah
i never stop chattering

there is so much to tell her —

about my teacher who wears
the same dress
every day
and always looks sad

and the boy in my class
who tattled on me
when i blew bubbles
with a straw
into my milk container

and the new girl in school named Rhonda

“grandma have you ever heard a name like that?
i don’t like that name
and I don’t like that girl”

“mamala,” grandma says
“don’t say you don’t like that girl
you don’t know her yet
who can tell?
you might end up being good friends”

“no we won’t
she’s very bossy
she told me I wasn’t coloring right
but i know how to color”

“yes darling
you color pretty”
grandma says
in her soft voice
that sounds like she’s singing

“maybe” grandma says
“maybe she just wanted
to talk to you
but she couldn’t think of something
nice to say
maybe she wants to be your friend”

“maybe
but i don’t think so”

“try to think so
it will make you happier if you
think so”

i didn’t know it then
60 years ago
on that Friday afternoon
in the kitchen on Elsemere Place

but my grandma Yetta
was my first
Buddhist teacher