Would You Like to See That?
I was walking out of the supermarket last night when I overheard two elderly ladies having the following discussion.
"We could go on over there and I could show you where I went to school and where I grew up. Would you like that?" the smaller of the two ladies asked. She was definitely the more "with it" of the two and was guiding the taller lady towards the store entrance.
"I dunno. What would we do?"
"Why I could show you everything about my home town and tell you all the stories about the town. The old school is still there and most of the old businesses where I spent my time as a child. Would you like to see that?"
"I dunno."
I wanted to shout, "Hey lady, I would love to see that! Can I come along?" The history of small towns that are slowly dwindling away just fascinates me and what better way to spend a day than to hear the stories of her small town as seen through her eyes. I didn't holler out to her as I'm sure she would've been freaked out by a complete stranger asking to ride along on her trip down memory lane. For all I know she would've pulled a can of pepper spray and treated me to an intimate moment with the asphalt which is something I could really do without.
Instead, I watched them shuffle into the store and wondered if she ever talked the taller lady into going with her. I'm thinking probably not but maybe she did and maybe she was able to revisit some of her own memories.
Alex Haley once said that when an old person dies it is like a library burning to the ground. All of that information is gone forever. I think he was dead on. How much of history is lost in the death of the unheard?
I guess what bothers me most is that too many times as people enter the autumn of their lives we fail to enjoy the brilliancy of the colors displayed in their memories as they slowly lose them in their journey towards the winter of life. (Okay, that was a sappy metaphoric bit of commentary but hey, creative license, right?). Soon all we are left with are a few pictures, if we are lucky, a conversation or two with someone who knew them and the vibrancy of their moment in the fabric of human history fades forever.
Now looking back, I wish I would've said, "Yes ma'am, I would like to see that."
"We could go on over there and I could show you where I went to school and where I grew up. Would you like that?" the smaller of the two ladies asked. She was definitely the more "with it" of the two and was guiding the taller lady towards the store entrance.
"I dunno. What would we do?"
"Why I could show you everything about my home town and tell you all the stories about the town. The old school is still there and most of the old businesses where I spent my time as a child. Would you like to see that?"
"I dunno."
I wanted to shout, "Hey lady, I would love to see that! Can I come along?" The history of small towns that are slowly dwindling away just fascinates me and what better way to spend a day than to hear the stories of her small town as seen through her eyes. I didn't holler out to her as I'm sure she would've been freaked out by a complete stranger asking to ride along on her trip down memory lane. For all I know she would've pulled a can of pepper spray and treated me to an intimate moment with the asphalt which is something I could really do without.
Instead, I watched them shuffle into the store and wondered if she ever talked the taller lady into going with her. I'm thinking probably not but maybe she did and maybe she was able to revisit some of her own memories.
Alex Haley once said that when an old person dies it is like a library burning to the ground. All of that information is gone forever. I think he was dead on. How much of history is lost in the death of the unheard?
I guess what bothers me most is that too many times as people enter the autumn of their lives we fail to enjoy the brilliancy of the colors displayed in their memories as they slowly lose them in their journey towards the winter of life. (Okay, that was a sappy metaphoric bit of commentary but hey, creative license, right?). Soon all we are left with are a few pictures, if we are lucky, a conversation or two with someone who knew them and the vibrancy of their moment in the fabric of human history fades forever.
Now looking back, I wish I would've said, "Yes ma'am, I would like to see that."
posted by Frustrated Writer | 5:05 AM
5 Comments:
I agree 100% with what you said here. I find sometimes, though, that you really have to fish for some stories because the elderly just don't think anyone is interested.
man..a big amen and I love that Alex Haley quote. I grew up with my Grandmother and lots of little old ladies and I am smarter for it!
There are so many stories, so many memories that people never share and it is a shame that they don't share because no one listened. Trips down memory lane ae sweet and telling. I would have loved to go with the lady to see her old hometown.
hey beth and discom, like your new pics! bev, you are right, those of us who were blessed with growing up around the elderly are better for it and discom, I think I will... I think I will.
Beautifully written! I would have liked to see it, too.
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