Serious, by Ken Bradbury, 2011

Fond memories of a Grandmother and what used to be. A moving story.


5 - 7 minutes

    Cast Options

  • 1 Male
  • 1 Female

Product Id: #135

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An excerpt …

(a special person)

Can you keep a secret? I have one cool grandma. Okay, everybody probably thinks Grandma is pretty cool, but you look up the word cool in the dictionary and you’ll see my grandma’s picture … at least in my dictionary.

Her name is Marie but I’ve always called her Bubbles. Don’t ask me why. I started when I was little and it just stuck. Then she started calling herself Bubbles. Then everybody started calling her Bubbles.

How do I start? Let’s just say that your own grandma isn’t supposed to be able to beat you playing video games. Your own grandma isn’t supposed to be a better free-throw shooter than you are. The typical grandmother doesn’t sit there and secretly play tag with you in church. Bubbles does. She does all these things … and a lot more.


I loved those days … filled with magic and wonder … and love. Then … then something tragic happened. I got busy. Sports, school activities, friends. More and more of my weekends were spent with “things that I really had to do.” Bubbles would call and say, “How about a walk to the creek this weekend, Captain?” By then it sort of embarrassed me when she called me Captain … sounded like kids’ stuff. I’d always say, “Maybe next weekend, Bubbles. I’m really tied up this week.” She’d pause a moment, then say, “That’s fine. You’re a busy boy/girl! Maybe next weekend.”

I wasn’t old enough, or smart enough, to catch the sadness in her voice.


I see her every week now … well, almost every week. Mom and I go visit her. Room 212. End of the hall. You have to poke in a certain code to get into her ward.

Sometimes she knows me. On her really good days she’ll smile. On the really bad days she just sort of … stares.

I feel worse for Mom. Bubbles is her mother and she has lots more memories than I do. We talk … Bubbles nods. We hug her before we leave and sometimes … sometimes she stares at us. She wonders why two total strangers are hugging her.

Then we leave.

Walking back to the car Mom tries to put up a good front. “She seemed healthy, didn’t she?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I think she recognized us today, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Mom.”


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