Message from my granddaughter Gabby: Grammy, when were you born? Reply: 1947. Gabby: So you were alive during the 50s and 60s. Reply: Well, it would seem so. (Where is her head!) Gabby: Well, two of my friends have to do a report on someone old (There she goes again!) who lived then, and they are fighting over you. Reply: Hmm.
Anabel won the ‘old lady’ prize. I set up the deck so my yearbook and other items from my ancient years would be in view. I played 50’s music, hoping to set the mood. Admittedly, I was nostalgic as I gathered up old cut out dolls and old 45’s. Still in love with Frankie Avalon. Soon I was dancing to the music of my elderly past. I had pictures of the wedding styles from my grandparents to my own. It was quite a stretch. West Side Story and Peter Paul and Mary albums looked on. I even had my old curls that were cut when I was about 3 or 4. I wanted to toss the blonde ringlets, but Loren wouldn’t let me.
Gabby came along with Anabel. I sat on the hot seat. Gabby sat with chip dip and chips in front of her, and Anabel had a thick tablet that had 15 questions in it for me. The first thing she asked me was what would be my most memorable event. I started to tell her about JFK’s assassination, and much to my surprise, I began to cry. This is an event I have talked about with friends many times over the years without this reaction. What was wrong with me!?!?!? Was I really an old broad losing it?
No. No, I was not. As I sat there with these two beautiful girls about to go into their senior year in high school, I was struck with the fact that I was their age when it happened. Suddenly the fear and confusion I felt back in 1963 was as raw now as it was then. It wasn’t about me. It was about so much more.
I turned the table on Anabel and chip-munching Gabby. “Do you read the newspaper and follow news?” Both girls said ‘no.’ It was too scary. They didn’t want to know.
When back east I was asked why I was missing the Today Show so much. I watch it faithfully every morning here at home. I watch the news and read about what is happening in the world. It is my duty as an American, a mother, a grandmother and a woman trying to help a world in distress What I saw was disturbing and sometimes made me angry and feeling helpless. But I watch. I cannot have an opinion if I do not know all the information. Yes, I am a Democrat. But it might surprise you, I do not follow any sites posted by the Democrats and do my own research on all parties. I try to keep an open mind and a level head. This is the responsibility of parents and grandparents. We are the examples who need to open doors to clear thinking so that our young ones know how to make their own decisions. How could this father and grandfather have opinions if he was not opening his mind and changing the world for those he loves? As far as I was concerned, if you don’t open doors, you will remain locked behind them.
Anabel and I continued our little interview. I rambled about playing with paper dolls, twisting to Chubby Checker and occasionally making out in an old Chevy. I laid it all out. They could ask what they wanted. I learned long ago that you can’t fool teenagers.
As we finished, I had one question to ask them. “If you don’t know what is happening in your world, how can you protect it? You will be going to college. We have not left you with the same world I had when I graduated. You are the future. You are the ones who will make a difference. How can you not be interested? I challenge you to step up to the task. I am trying and would like your help.”
Yep, Anabel won the old lady tug-of-war. My guess is the she got more than she bargained for. In fact, the chips and dip seems to slow down with the conversation. Maybe, just maybe, a new page was added to my history.
Pamela Loxley Drake is a former resident of Darke County and is the author of Neff Road and A Grandparent’s Voice blog. She can be reached at email@example.com. Viewpoints expressed in the article are the work of the author. The Daily Advocate does not endorse these viewpoints or the independent activities of the author.