In A Word; Superb

My Grandmother (not ‘Grandma’ and certainly never ‘Granny’) was a proper New Englander born in the first decade of the 1900s. Her manner of speech was the way of many proper New Englanders; crisp and precise with some interesting twists, like ‘Twos-dee’ for Tuesday.

My favorite word that reminds me of her stiff upper lip and willful backbone that defied crumbling old age is her mastery of the word ‘Superb.’

It was reserved only for her favorites; Butterfingers snuck past the watchful eye of her caretaker, books about Adobe architecture in the Sedona landscape, the proper word filled out in the New Yorker crossword puzzle on the first try and most especially memories of her late husband.

All superb. A word that can’t be just said like any other word, but ritualistically performed with the slight shaking of her head as she closed her eyes oh-so-briefly. Then, as if an invisible string was tied to the corner of her mouth and the base of her chin, her whole face would smile upward as she said it before returning to earth and continuing with her story.

It’s a word I feel like an imposter using because I just can’t command that word the way she did. Listening to my Grandmother (well-rehearsed to be pronounced ‘grandmuttha’) say the word ‘superb’ was like hearing the discovery of a new place… a place where ‘relish’ and ‘revere’ collide.

Although I think I’ll always feel like a little girl using words too mature to really appreciate my meaning, I have found I subconsciously mimic my dear Grandmother’s mannerism when I draw in a breath and then fill my palate with our Rosé.

Eyes shut, head wavering, facing the heavens before returning down and continuing with my glass.

 It really is something special. In a word; simply superb.

Go pour yourself a glass of something superb and have a Happy Grandparents Day.