Friday, July 18, 2014

A Drive Down Memory Lane


            I had the privilege of doing something this week few 40 year olds have the privilege of doing. I was able to spend time with my last two living grandparents. My 90, soon to be 91 year old, grandfather from my paternal side and my 87 year old maternal grandmother. To be in the presence of these two individuals, at separate times, this week was overwhelming. My grandpa and grandma have seen me throughout every phase of my life and lived so much history of their own. They are— after all— members of the Greatest Generation. What they mean to me and my family is indescribable. And to have them with us —still— as they are entering their final years— is an immeasurable blessing.
            One of my aunt’s drove my grandfather from Southern Ohio to visit for the day. It had been at least seven years since my dad’s dad had been up to my parents’ home. My grandfather doesn’t like to leave his house for any length of time. He usually prefers his back porch with the fan blowing on him and his view of the creek bank. Although the view is dimming with the condition of his macular degeneration in his eyes, it is, as it always has been, the place that brings him comfort. I’m glad he was willing to exchange his environment for the day to share it with my family. I sat and listened for hours as my grandpa shared stories from a long time ago and provided his opinion of the direction the country seems to be is going. He shared advice that might help our President and Congress members get out of domestic and international troubles. He spoke about the war (in which he had an all too intimate account as a tank driver and purple heart recipient) and talked about his wife, my grandmother, whom we lost over 14 years ago. He described the frustrations of getting older. But believe it or not, for the amount of tough topics that were covered in conversation, most of the day was filled with smiles and laughter.
            On Thursday of this same week— I got to spend time with my mom’s mom. We went on a drive to find one of the many houses her and my grandfather had lived. (My grandfather passed away a year and a half ago.) The house we decided to visit was a small country drive away. When we turned on the former road my grandparents had lived, the houses looked different than I remembered. It appeared on a much smaller scale than it had existed in my mind. The plot of land they owned dwarfed by other homes on either side — their property used to be so vast. Once cows had pastured behind the fence row, but progress had long since replaced the pasture with a string of newer homes. My grandmother and I even turned around and passed by the old house again to make sure it was the right location. And before we returned to her current home we stopped at the ice cream store. Not the one we had stopped at decades before, it was closed in lieu of a newer, fancier structure just down the road. We did, however, eat an ice cream cone and in that moment we were transported back in time. In the car as we savored the summer treat the only reminder of the years that had passed was the fact I was the one in the driver’s seat. Grandma and I reminisced about time gone by. It was nostalgic on so many levels.  
            Like so many other families in the midst of navigating the rough waters of aging loved ones—we, as a family, face challenges as my grandparents’ health decreases. And as my grandparents’ health decreases, in turn, certain tasks increase for those family members that are providing care and transportation, but family takes care of their own. And as my grandparents have taken care of their children (my parents) and as they have chipped in when their grandchildren needed babysitting or a special favor, we are taking care of them. This week I am thankful for a generation I have been fortunate to know and I am reminded that time is our greatest gift we give to those we care.   

           

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