Spring Break
Please, don't call me grandma!
Emily Riley
Issue date: 4/5/07 Section: Forum
How does spring break heading for the sun with grandma sound? It does not sound very enticing, I agree, but maybe because our vision of a grandma is a cane-bound old lady who is notorious for baking delicious cookies. Fortunately for me, I spent my spring break on a road trip with my grandma. Except she hates being called grandma and frankly, she rocks!
We spent our time joking, laughing, and swearing about politics. If anyone told me I remind them of my grandmother, I would hug them. Not only is she funny, opinionated (in a good way) and elegant; a day spent with her is like a beautiful and startling visit to the past, a realistic view of the present, and a hopeful peek at the future. She makes getting old look graceful and fun. The hills along our drive rolled with stories of when they lived in Northern California with crazy wind storms and hot drives in a trailer-driven truck during several of their migrations in the region. During the drive I realized, more than ever, how much I have learned from my grandmother and that I have enjoyed knowing her immensely. I picked her brain about topics ranging from what life in the depression was like to the intricacies of raising children. Her stories of living in the depression have taught me the value of having food and other necessities. Learning about the 50-year marriage she and my grandfather made not only work but be wonderful and exciting has given me hope that I may be as fortunate. As an avid reader, theatre attendee, counselor and active community member, she does not meld with the stereotype of a shriveled and non-functioning elderly citizen. Nor do so many of our valued senior citizens.
When is the defining moment when one gets old anyway, and what characteristics make them old? I know 50-year-olds who are more like a kid than I am. We are always getting older, which is only natural, but when is the point where we are old? Restaurant menus say 55, retirement standards say about 60, and some say 50. Why are you capable of eating from a senior menu before you can stop working and enjoy your hard-earned retirement money? In a society that values youth and has invented several crazy schemes to protect it and avoid the inevitable for as long as possible, our idea of aging or our treatment of the elderly is one of weirdest in the world. We ask our middle aged citizens to work and pay taxes and save for retirement and then as soon as grandpa can't back out of the driveway we put him in a home with a bunch of other unfortunate souls somehow sending the message that being old is their fault and that they are now a bother to society. Granted, we are living longer and being sustained by medications and scientific advances, but with that enters a responsibility to care for and value those whom we are trying to keep alive for as long as possible.
In other cultures of the world, the elder is the most cherished and respected person in the community. Not until you have reached your elderly state are you in your prime, when life gets good and your wisdom is a source of power and inspiration to those around you. In several African societies a woman is respected by her sons and husband as she ages and younger generations are to give respect and to their elders and gain guidance from them. Children make houses for their elderly parents and the even younger generations protect their precious family. Even in ancient eras grandmothers and mothers were the sole providers of education, teaching especially young girls how to be good wives, mothers and citizens. In Biblical times these women would provide advice during women's menstrual periods when they gathered in tents. How have we gotten so far from this concept of accepting our elders as knowledgeable human beings instead of frail and sickly? Does it seem right that being old is represented by inability? If anything my grandmother is more capable than I am. She has had years of experience, years to know what she wants, likes and has the power to decide for herself. Why can't our view of getting older be like the French's view of wine and cheese; that it gets better with age? Sounds much more like the kind of aging I want to be allowed to do.
The trip to Los Angeles with my grandmother was a lesson for me to appreciate a slower pace of daily life with a passion for living. We took our time having long lunches and inspiring discussions. Spending time with my grandmother is like an awesome cheat sheet to the rest of my life. Seeing how she has lived out her life, the mistakes, the right and wrong choices that led her down her personal path shows the possibilities that lie ahead for me and lend retrospect to the things I focus too heavily on, that will be merely worries in a matter of years.
In the mean time I will continue to live my life the way it is commanded as any college student can attest to, but cherish the times when my grandmother and I can get into a heated discussion of politics and social issues. With my grandmother, I definitely prefer a good brewing debate than a cup of milk and hot freshly baked cookies.
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Emily Riley is a senior in French and the international degree in anthropology. The opinions expressed in her columns, which appear every other Thursday, do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Barometer staff. Riley can be reached at forum@dailybarometer.com.
We spent our time joking, laughing, and swearing about politics. If anyone told me I remind them of my grandmother, I would hug them. Not only is she funny, opinionated (in a good way) and elegant; a day spent with her is like a beautiful and startling visit to the past, a realistic view of the present, and a hopeful peek at the future. She makes getting old look graceful and fun. The hills along our drive rolled with stories of when they lived in Northern California with crazy wind storms and hot drives in a trailer-driven truck during several of their migrations in the region. During the drive I realized, more than ever, how much I have learned from my grandmother and that I have enjoyed knowing her immensely. I picked her brain about topics ranging from what life in the depression was like to the intricacies of raising children. Her stories of living in the depression have taught me the value of having food and other necessities. Learning about the 50-year marriage she and my grandfather made not only work but be wonderful and exciting has given me hope that I may be as fortunate. As an avid reader, theatre attendee, counselor and active community member, she does not meld with the stereotype of a shriveled and non-functioning elderly citizen. Nor do so many of our valued senior citizens.
When is the defining moment when one gets old anyway, and what characteristics make them old? I know 50-year-olds who are more like a kid than I am. We are always getting older, which is only natural, but when is the point where we are old? Restaurant menus say 55, retirement standards say about 60, and some say 50. Why are you capable of eating from a senior menu before you can stop working and enjoy your hard-earned retirement money? In a society that values youth and has invented several crazy schemes to protect it and avoid the inevitable for as long as possible, our idea of aging or our treatment of the elderly is one of weirdest in the world. We ask our middle aged citizens to work and pay taxes and save for retirement and then as soon as grandpa can't back out of the driveway we put him in a home with a bunch of other unfortunate souls somehow sending the message that being old is their fault and that they are now a bother to society. Granted, we are living longer and being sustained by medications and scientific advances, but with that enters a responsibility to care for and value those whom we are trying to keep alive for as long as possible.
In other cultures of the world, the elder is the most cherished and respected person in the community. Not until you have reached your elderly state are you in your prime, when life gets good and your wisdom is a source of power and inspiration to those around you. In several African societies a woman is respected by her sons and husband as she ages and younger generations are to give respect and to their elders and gain guidance from them. Children make houses for their elderly parents and the even younger generations protect their precious family. Even in ancient eras grandmothers and mothers were the sole providers of education, teaching especially young girls how to be good wives, mothers and citizens. In Biblical times these women would provide advice during women's menstrual periods when they gathered in tents. How have we gotten so far from this concept of accepting our elders as knowledgeable human beings instead of frail and sickly? Does it seem right that being old is represented by inability? If anything my grandmother is more capable than I am. She has had years of experience, years to know what she wants, likes and has the power to decide for herself. Why can't our view of getting older be like the French's view of wine and cheese; that it gets better with age? Sounds much more like the kind of aging I want to be allowed to do.
The trip to Los Angeles with my grandmother was a lesson for me to appreciate a slower pace of daily life with a passion for living. We took our time having long lunches and inspiring discussions. Spending time with my grandmother is like an awesome cheat sheet to the rest of my life. Seeing how she has lived out her life, the mistakes, the right and wrong choices that led her down her personal path shows the possibilities that lie ahead for me and lend retrospect to the things I focus too heavily on, that will be merely worries in a matter of years.
In the mean time I will continue to live my life the way it is commanded as any college student can attest to, but cherish the times when my grandmother and I can get into a heated discussion of politics and social issues. With my grandmother, I definitely prefer a good brewing debate than a cup of milk and hot freshly baked cookies.
Emily Riley is a senior in French and the international degree in anthropology. The opinions expressed in her columns, which appear every other Thursday, do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Barometer staff. Riley can be reached at forum@dailybarometer.com.
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