Marquette University Intimations Project

In February of 2020, my grandma, more fondly known as Mimi, moved in with my family. She had been living on her own for way longer than she probably should have, but we finally convinced her that she needed to sell her house and live with family. I thought this would be an interesting situation for my family, but I had moved out, so I wouldn’t really have to… I don’t want to say deal with it… experience it. Obviously, anyone reading this now has the hindsight to know just how wrong I was.

I was sent home from my college life in March of 2020. Around the same time, Mimi was undergoing radiation for breast cancer. At this time, masks were still widely optional, and people were allowed to sit in waiting rooms at doctor’s appointments. My sister worked in healthcare, my brother had long moved out, my dad was an essential worker as an airline pilot, so before I came home, my mom was her mother’s primary caretaker. When I came home, I helped with small things like telling Mimi to take the phone off speaker phone if she was planning on complaining about how messy our house was right in front of my mom or (a much less important task) driving her to her various doctor’s appointments.

At this point, Mimi and I were both familiar with the ins-and-outs of the Chesterfield Mercy clinic, so on this particular day, we said “hi” to Lauren, the receptionist who always worked on Tuesday mornings, and Mimi walked on in while I sat in the waiting room. I brought a book, as usual, and was excited to get back to reading it in the small amount of time I was not surrounded by my chaotic, ever-exciting family. Across the room, well over six feet away, sat a man who I would guess was in his late 80s. Before I could put in my earbuds, he asked me, “Are you Peggy’s granddaughter?” 

Now, I wasn’t surprised by this question for two reasons. 1) Peggy, my mimi, made friends everywhere she went. I am pretty sure that every grocer at Shop N’ Save, every parishioner at Holy Infant Church, and every person who lived within a 10-mile radius of Barbara Ann Lane knew me exclusively as Peggy’s granddaughter. 2) I have an uncanny knack for attracting unwanted conversations from strangers. My friends have come to notice this and even make games out of it. Every time I step on the bus, they start counting down the seconds until someone turns to me and starts unloading about their day as if I am their best friend or asking me whether they should get a new puppy. On every airplane, I try to sit and close my eyes as soon as possible to get some sleep on a 5am flight, but sure enough, I always sit next to someone who starts a two-hour long conversation with “are you from St. Louis? Or just visiting?” I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for the kindness of strangers, but too often I am tired or uncomfortable or, in this case, really excited to read my book.

I told the man, “yes, I am. How do you know her?” and he began to explain to me that his wife was also going through radiation and that she and Peggy had become quick friends. He also remarked that my mimi was an angel, which I could not disagree with. He asked me plenty of polite questions and ended up telling me that his name was Richard, and he had gone to Ball State with his wife because they both grew up in the same town and had met very young. He seemed just as smitten with her that Tuesday in the waiting room as he had been when he was 16, but I must say, that was not the most interesting part of his story. As it turns out, his hometown in Indiana, which I had of course never heard of, was the same town that James Dean had grown up in. He said he went to the same high school as James Dean and had even seen him perform in a school play. He was telling me about the breathtaking performance young Dean had given as if he had seen it yesterday. 

He told me that he played on the same basketball team that Dean had played on only a few years after him. When James Dean started to become, well, James Dean, a documentary was made about him, and the film crew came to Richard’s school and interviewed the basketball team. He was very excited to be featured in the documentary, but unfortunately, his interview did not make the cut. He was very excited to tell me, though, that he caught a glimpse of himself in some footage that they included of his basketball practice. Long forgotten was my book in the seat next to me as he recounted every interaction he’s ever had with Dean interspersed with his fond memories of falling in love with his wife. We talked for I don’t know how long until his wife came out. She was as beautiful as he had described, and she was thrilled to hear that I was Peggy’s granddaughter. She said my grandmother was the sweetest lady she’s ever met, which always makes me laugh to hear because my grandma can be sweet, but she’s mostly incredibly sassy and blunt (a family trait). It was her last radiation treatment, and I could tell how much it meant to both of them. Richard and I said our goodbyes, and that is the last I ever saw of them, but I will never hear a word about James Dean without thinking about that time I spent with my friend Richard. 

After that day, I thought about all of the stories we all have and started spending more time asking people what stories they want to tell. One day I asked Mimi, the angel, why she broke up with her boyfriend John, who had been her boyfriend for as long as I could remember, and they broke up when I was about 10. She told me that, one day, she had plans to spend the day with John, but she was in a terrible mood, so John was trying to cheer her up by taking her to McDonalds. Although this is something that would usually work, she noted that it really “pissed her off.” As they were sitting down to eat, he said, “Peggy, your bra is undone, do you want me to fix it?” And that really pissed her off, so she did what any logical person would do: broke up with him. She had no regrets about this decision, though, because she had been in love with her husband, my grandfather, for his entire life, and it had been a beautiful love. She also said, “It wasn’t like I was gonna get married again. I don’t need anyone else to take care of,” in true Peggy fashion.

Since then, I make sure to take out my earbuds when I step on the bus or sit down at my seat in an airplane. Maybe one of these strangers went on tour with the Spice Girls or saw Meryl Streep on a subway. Or maybe, they are madly in love with their best friend or nursed a wounded bird back to health. Even though I have made the transition of hearing these stories from behind a mask, as I did in the hospital waiting room, or over a Zoom screen, Richard taught me that life is a lot more interesting, and a hell of a lot funnier, when you listen to the stories it is dying to tell you.