Stories

 

I grew up around a large family filled with aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and grandmothers. I even knew my grandfather and his mother. Our family home became a Guest home for elderly ladies and they filled my life with true stories of log cabins, Indians, and old fashioned customs. I even knew a lady who was scalped and saw the round scar left on her head when she was twelve.

I took my youth for granted, but I did sometimes wonder what I would look like when I was old and gray, or maybe even white headed. I hoped I would not end up in a guest home, or rest home and I hoped my children would not forget to visit me. 

I knew women with ten children who never saw even one most of the year, but that is beside the point. Now I am certainly not white headed, but I am gray and I am on the older side of adulthood. I am relieved that I don't look as old as I thought I might, but that could be perspective. People in their forties look very young to me now.

I am fortunate to live in a time of computers and cell phones. I talk to my son almost daily and hear from my daughter fairly frequently. I have a young friend who calls me every day without fail and adds so much to my life. These things keep me young, I believe.

Gone are the days when folks left home on a covered wagon and never returned and gone are the times when a long distance call was prohibitively expensive. We live in instant times, when everyone is just a few seconds away. We can talk, share pictures, even video chat. but that does not make those times I spent listening to the elderly share their stories any less special.

And nothing has replaced a hug.