I chose a hectic time to start a blog. Writing curriculum and finishing by a recent deadline has taken much of my time. Catching up on blogging about food will soon include some more of my favorites and a funny story about my baby eating peas…
But, in the meantime, I’ve been pondering. musing…
Old people. I like them. Sitting and talking with them, I learn of the ways of the past, bits of wisdom, even their misunderstandings of current-day trends. The only time I get annoyed is when an old person is driving REAAAALLLY slooow…then I have to remember they probably can’t see very well…like our neighbor. He’s a friend of ours now. He can’t see well, but he also really canNOT hear…my daughter and I have to almost shout. We visit him a lot. He lost his wife about 2 years ago, so when we went down to give our condolences, we took him some homemade food, some frozen meals, and some treats, and…became instant friends (we had just moved into the neighborhood).
We check on Mr. Bolton every couple of weeks since he’s all alone. Visiting him entails a lot of listening. He likes talking about sports and schools. Computers baffle him. He’s 86 years old and doesn’t have a computer. He’s an extremely hard worker, taking care of his home and garden. His daily walks bring him past our house, his long legs carrying him around the wonderful trails we have in this area. He used to be a college baseball player.
My daughter has come to really like “Mr. Bolton.” When we’re out drawing with chalk, she asks, “Mom, can we go visit Mr. Bolton?” Or, when driving past his house, “Mom, I’d like to go see Mr. Bolton.” Although, the last time we were there, his house had a pungent smell, making her eyes water and her tummy turn. She was so polite, “Mommy, can we go?”…and waiting so patiently as I listened to him finish his story. Baby needed to sleep so we had to leave about 10 minutes later. Her eyes and tummy got over the smell because she was ready to go back a couple days later: “Mommy, can we ride our bikes to visit Mr. Bolton.”
Like I said, I like old people. My little girl is for sure an admirer of Mr. Bolton. I’m fortunate enough to have both of my grandmothers still around, and not many kids are lucky enough to meet their great-grandmothers, both of whom she adores. At least once a month I would call each of my grandmas (now that I live close to them I see them more often and call when I can…) They both like to talk. I’m a listener. (Maybe old people just need someone to talk to. I listen.) Stories of the Great Depression engage me. Stories of traveling the US and moving from school to school invite me into their past worlds. Recording these stories is a dream. To write down the history of my grandmothers would be a gift to my children, to all of my family. I’ve had this goal for awhile. I just need to do it. I don’t want to have regrets…like not being able to find my tape recorder…wanting to record some of my great-grandfather’s stories. He was alive and well until age 92 and died when I was in my second year in college. I still kick myself to this day that I couldn’t find that recorder…he told the best stories.
Old soul I am…
mishmashmusing 