Christmas Eve Grandmas

By Leah Holbrook Sackett

There’s a good feeling singed about the edges. It is an invitation to where things glitter and are softly worn. A line of demarcation runs steadily through the fold. A filter over the 70s awakens one’s celebrity status and the other’s homespun love. They are diametrically opposed—no feud, just different in the prism-shaped interior of my cooking and dishes Grandma’s home. The Hollywood grandma drinks her Stag beer in its washed-out gold. She lights a cigarette from her gold chainmail cigarette holder. It is soft and silky as it yields to my touch. I covet it with my 7-year-old fingers. My cousin asks her if she is a movie star. Everyone finds this funny. My Hollywood grandma eats it up. I am proud. My cleaning and feeding grandma is in motion. She puts up the Christmas tree. I am a part of hanging the ornaments. They look like candy; A pink gingerbread house with stiff fluffy white icing, a giant lollipop with a gumdrop face, and a pink and white iced rocking horse. Another cousin stands to watch as I lick the granulated plastic ornament, it is not sweet. Maybe next year. The Hollywood grandma pets me and sits me on her lap. There are all kinds of grandmas with all kinds of love to give.


Leah Holbrook Sackett is a short story writer. Her first book, a collection of short stories, is scheduled for publication with REaDLips Press summer 2020. She is also an adjunct lecturer in the English Department and the Department of Communications and Media at the University of Missouri – St. Louis. This is also where she earned her B.A. in English and M.F.A. in creative writing.

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