Past, Present, & Future
Now that we are all fully vaccinated, I jumped at the chance to road trip with my dad to see my grandma & grandpa. They had been left to their own devices, and I wanted to see with my own eyes how they were doing. The days leading up to the trip, I was so anxious. Working in senior living and home health care has made me a bit cynical, always assuming the worst because I’ve seen it. Cockroaches jumping out of kitchen cabinets. America’s elderly living off meager scraps. Struggling to afford their medications. It’s gut wrenching.
My grandparents aren’t in dire straits by any means. They have been lucky to live in the same house for as long as I can remember. My grandfather is doing pretty well, taking care of everything around the house by himself. But my grandma has what she lovingly calls “CRS”. Can’t. Remember. Shit. She was the one I was worried about. After retiring from her beloved job as a receptionist at Blair for over 50 years, she became more sedentary and without the stimulation her job provided, her memory started to decline. It’s possible it may have been before she retired, but it’s definitely gotten worse in the last few years.
After SEVERAL pit-stops (thanks diabetes 🤦🏼♀️) we finally made it to our destination. It was like walking into a time capsule. Very little has changed in their place, and it was incredibly comforting to me. Everything was in order and essentially the same as the last time I had been there, at least 4-5 years ago. There were all the familiar pictures on the walls and the retro sofa I’ve laid on many Christmas mornings, watching my family open their gifts.
I immediately wanted to walk around, looking to confirm that everything was truly in place. It was all there. The creepy owl decoration was in the bedroom I always stayed in, giving me his blank stare. The bunny statues were in the front yard, looking as if they were ready to hop away. All of grandpa's tools were neatly organized in the garage. Then I walked into the kitchen and saw the fridge. There she was, my beautiful daughter’s face smiling all over it. Intermingling with old pictures of myself and the rest of the family. My past, present, and future all in one place. It was a surreal feeling. I even hung one of her pieces of art from Child Care on the fridge near one of my old drawings.
The overall theme for the weekend was delving into the past. I went there with a game plan: Learn as much as I can about my family's lives. Our heritage. Our history. On my mom's side of the family, my Aunt Dee is the QUEEN of ancestry. If you ever have a question about what year an event happened in our family, or where the family moved to at a certain point in time, she’s the one to ask. I’ve always been in awe of the way she remembers it all. I wanted to be HER for my dad's side of the family. So I prepared, sending them memory books to fill out. I had been hoping they may have started working on them before I arrived. That didn’t happen, but it ending up working out perfectly. I had all the questions I’d ever need at my fingertips.
Setting to work on filling out the book, I began to quiz my grandma on facts about her childhood, all while putting together our family tree. I could see the wheels churning, a smile spreading across her face. She told me tales of growing up in Missouri, meeting my grandfather, and moving to Pennsylvania. How her family LOVED to joke around, which made her sense of humor even more endearing (They told her lovingly they found her in a haystack). While we talked, I noticed certain stories would be repeated. Over. And over.
In speaking with my grandma, I realized how much more I had in common with her than I ever realized. We both have poor self-esteem (hey! I’m working on it) and self-deprecating senses of humor. Our favorite holiday is Halloween, and we love a good dessert. And her love language, which can be mine at times, is gift giving.
While going through her jewelry box, she would tell my cousin and I the story behind every individual piece. It’s like the rings and trinkets were her portal to another time. Beautiful memories, swirling around her mind, fraying at the edges. She let me keep a beautiful turquoise ring her mother (my great grandma) Opal gave her. I now wear it with pride everyday.
While I enjoyed going down memory lane with my grandma, it saddens me that she struggles to live in and remember the present moment. At one point, after she repeated another story we had already heard a few times at that point, my grandpa exclaimed “Stop living in the past!” While it may not have been his intention, it got me thinking about my own ways of dealing with the past. I once read a quote by Lao Tzu that states “If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.”
How much of my mentality has been shaped by those past experiences I hold onto bitterly? Some of those memories were even present that weekend as well. The friends who shunned me from their group in high school. The boys who broke my heart (and I know I did some heartbreaking as well). All in a photo album, looking up at me. In therapy, I’ll often discuss different life events, trying desperately to understand why I am the way I am. The anxiety. The people-pleasing. The fear of rejection. While it’s been helpful in moving forward, I don’t want to be stuck in the past. It’s a nice place to visit, but I’ve come to realize I don’t want to live there. Now, more than ever, I am ready to live in the present.
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