A Simpler Time
I am long overdue in calling my grandmother. She's in Kansas and I really should give her a call. I am a bad grand-daughter.But today, with this beautiful weather we are having, I am struck with a bit of wistfulness for a simpler time. My grandmother is a feisty woman, yet charming too. She gardened, kept up with a chicken coop, helped on the farm, and got three hot meals on the table everyday for years. She raised two children and found time to make Barbie clothes for her grand-daughters' dolls.
I don't know how she did it all. I can barely find the time to keep up with my housework. I don't have children yet, and I don't have to plan an expedition to get groceries. What must it have been like for her at my age?
Don't get me wrong, I'm under no impression that it was iced-tea, skirts, and cake all of the time. I'm not attributing more romance to her life than is due. I know there was a lot of work to do. Hard work. I'm just a bit curious what it must have been like.
My grandfather (her husband) died while I was in college. He was the first person I ever knew that died. His death was difficult for me, but that is an entirely different post. No, I bring up my grandfather because he too was exceptionally busy. He was a school teacher. He also drove the "bus," coached and umpired the school games, and farmed. He was on the boards of a number of local cooperatives and brought phone service, electricity, and several grain elevators to the community.
I am just struck by how much more they accomplished than I have, and these are supposed to be more advanced times. Women are more empowered and higher up the corporate ladder. But do we accomplish as much?
I'm not sure that we do.
I wish I could be more like my grandmother sometimes. No doubt, she'll tell you to stuff your sorries in a sack if she feels it appropriate.
I should call her.
