As I’m sitting here looking down at my fashionably loose-fitting long top, frayed jeans and past the frog tattoo on my foot to the flip-flops I had just worn to the coffee house, I can’t help but think of all my ancestors who bore the name of Mother or Ma.
Whether there was a great-grand, or a grand in front of it, or if it was just plain old “Mother” or “Ma,” the contrast between them and me, and others living in the present era, sticks out like a sore thumb.
Should they see me, great-grandma would drop dead in her tracks. Grandma would give me $5 and tell me to go get myself a decent house dress (that’s what they cost in her day).
“Gosh, Grandma, let me check and see what I can find on-line,” as I pull out my I-phone. She would reply, “You won’t find anything on the line. I already brought the wash in.”
Then she would spy "Caleb" my frog, "What in the world is that thing on your foot?!" She would inform me that foot was already in Hell, with the rest of me to follow soon after.
Then she would tsk and say, "You're going to trip and hurt yourself with those things on your feet. Here's another $5 … go get yourself some dependable shoes to wear … and make sure they cover up that frog."
Now we’re down to Mamma. Her reaction is a bit harder to describe. I guess, basically, she would chew me out and tell me I had just disgraced the whole family, way back through the generation that took the slow-boat over from the old country.
•••
Now, I’m great-grandma! Holy crap – how did I get here? I went through grand-motherhood with flying colors, just turned around and I’m a “great!” Well, it’s all good – but I thought “greats” were OLD, as in decrepit. Heck, I used to think “grands” were old.
OK, so I accept that I’m there, but then it hit me – my little boy and girl are Grandpa and Grandma! Grandmas just ain’t what they used to be. My kids and grandkids think my trendy outfits are all good, and they love my “frog tat.” They have no clue what a traditional grandma has been portrayed to be, and if anyone comes along and tells them, I’ll deny it.
•••
As Jerry and I have become the older generation, our entertainment has changed drastically. Working the morning word puzzle and sitting around reading takes a priority. And we have found that the 4:15 p.m. movie at the Apollo Theater works great for us. We get home and still have time to grab a bite to eat before watching Wheel-of-Fortune. Running late … we fill our plates and drag out the TV trays.
It is when I read in the papers, “Elderly Woman … blah-blah-blah,” and the article proceeds to state her age, that I realize how the world views me. She’s younger than I am! I can’t honestly resent this. You see, he truth is, I too, used to think that age was old.
There is a certain urgency now that I’m approaching 78. Each day needs to be spent as though it is the last, and if there is anything I want to do, or amends I should make – I’d best be getting it done. My bucket-list changes; those accomplished are crossed off; and as the whim strikes me, some are added. Just today I added taking another online writing course and joining a writer’s group if I can find one that will have me. Hopefully, you will be able to notice an improvement.
•••
Jerry and I just celebrated our 56th wedding anniversary. Our marriage, like most, has been filled with all possible emotions. Starting with elation and mountain-top love, then came the anger and arguments (you wouldn’t think such a mild guy could be so stubborn), followed by the fun of making-up (no details on that one). At any rate, we have had a great roller-coaster ride together and, by God’s grace, came out loving stronger than ever.
At this point in our lives, we make a superb team — he depends on me to hear for him, and I depend on him to think for me — it works.
Don’t forget to F R O G!
Earlene Campbell lives by the FROG motto — Fully Rely On God. She resides in Princeton and can be reached at earlenecampbell@rocketmail.com.