“back then” (guest writer #9)

My grandma owned a tiny neighborhood grocery store in the hills of the Allegheny mountains, and I loved to visit during those long unhurried days of summer. My grandfather had died when my mom was ten, so it fell to my grandma to keep the family afloat financially and she opened up and ran that store for almost thirty years. I found her store fascinating; she sold penny candy, Hershey’s ice cream, soda pop by the bottle and neighbors would stop in to pick up the newspaper and milk and sit down at her counter for a chat. I perched on a stool at the far end of that long burnished wood counter and half-listened to their conversations, and when I grew bored, I went outside to find a cousin or a book to read while perched in a tree.

 

To me times were simple. T.V. was generally boring, since we only had three stations and if you were lucky, you had cartoons on a Saturday morning. A house had one or two telephones that ate money if you wanted to call anyone long-distance, so you can be sure my mom wasn’t checking on me every day. Fast food had not made its way to my grandma’s town, so you couldn’t rush off to grab a burger and fries. If I wanted some greasy food — and what kid doesn’t — I trundled up the stairs to my aunt’s kitchen and she happily fried chicken and french fries (just peeled) in Crisco.  I woke in the mornings to my Uncle John sitting at my grandma’s table for a cup of coffee before heading to work, and I fell asleep with windows opened wide to catch the lilac-scented breezes and the ghost stories grandma could conjure up.

 

Did I ever get bored?  Yes, all the time, but I knew better than to say it, for the moment a kid claimed boredom, they were handed a chore or two, since there were always dishes to wash or dusting or weeding to do.

 

My mom and grandma would hang the clothes out on the clothesline to dry and the crackle and fresh smell of the sheets could not be matched by any fabric softener’s scent. Before the fitness craze obsessed the nation, we would take hike up the mountain to pick flowers and put them on grandpa’s grave, and I suppose much of the outdoors work and even inside cleaning burned a bunch of calories. I don’t recall things being sanitized to death, so we didn’t feel as if the house had to be party perfect before a neighbor could venture over for a cup of coffee or dinner. And the entertainment back then rivaled “The Voice.” Someone would drift over to the piano and start playing requests (and no matter where you went, a person could play), and others would start singing. And on my grandma’s house wide porch? I would swing out there, transfixed by the lightning bugs and sing, oblivious to any listening ears.

 

I’m not saying I’m averse to clothes dryers and dishwashers and computers or cable TV. I just wish there were a balance between the ways things used to be and today; a melding of the best of both worlds. I suppose it’s natural to look back at your childhood and think it was great, but I’m striving for more here. Do we lead balanced lives? Are we endlessly rushing around? Do we need to be relentlessly entertained? Or do our kids have to be blissed out happy most of the time? I’m not pointing fingers for the blame lies at my doorstep (albeit neatly swept), also.

 

I give in and let my kid play video games not only on the Xbox now but on his phone. I have over 800 Facebook friends, and let’s face it, no one can possibly keep up with that many people. I skim through the cable listings and proclaim that nothing is on. But I love my Swiffer; it’s much easier than a mop, and fast food saves me at least twice a week. So what gives? Why do I wait for vacation to unplug and reconnect with my family? Why do I make these to do lists that read like something off of Pinterest? I want to make homemade strawberry jam.  I want to make it from the berries that I picked from the field. I want to sit out on our new patio on these warm summer evenings rather than wilt away in the air conditioned comfort of my house. But I don’t seem to quite make it.  The days fill up with carpools and errand running and really running (for fitness sake) and before I know it, the day is gone.

 

I’m using this as a sort of therapy session for me, and I hope it helps you. I think making boundaries around our time is a good idea. Setting aside some time for reflection and daydreaming makes sense. A woman told me last week how she took a walk outside in her new neighborhood filled with beautiful yards and no one was out. She asked me where everyone was. Inside? I don’t know about you, but something about fresh air and outside makes me feel better if not good. Should we stroll out of our comfort zones? Try connecting in a meaningful way with someone else. Not in a quickly worded email or post, but over coffee or on the phone, and not while we pass away the time driving. Sit down in your favorite chair and focus on the talk. The difference is noticeable.

 

Thanks for letting me sort this out. I wish I could hear what you remember from “back then.” What do you miss that you want to recreate in your life now? Me? I would find a house with a big porch swing and watch the fireflies before autumn closes in. And maybe sing a little, too.

 

Respectfully,

DEP