Taken on a recent trip to Omaha Beach, NZ
Old people garden. They
take care of their pot plants (a thing I struggle with), they sit and wait for
birds to come to their bird feeders. They all have a lemon tree and when life
gives them lemons, they give them away to their neighbours in small plastic
bags. They bake raspberry slice and have excessive tea breaks, they make
short-bread and dip it in warm cups of English Breakfast. They use the word
‘dear’ a lot, and they always double check that the gas heaters are turned off.
They read the paper every morning in worn slippers and a dressing gown,
accompanied by a bowl of the same cereal they’ve been eating since 1994.
I like old people. I
enjoy their perspective, most of all. They are so relaxed with reality, yet so
experienced with it. They know how it behaves better than any of us 25-yr-olds,
and still, they continue unphased. They’ve become comfortable with the pace of
life, they’ve learnt the dynamic range and tempo of the piece, and even someone
like my Grandad, has learnt to play along. They’ve seen things die, they’ve
felt the spectrum of pain, but they are more optimistic than most: they will
not let any circumstance say ‘it won’t be ok’ because they’ve met it before and
made it through.
I talk to old people
while I’m waiting for the bus, at the end of a church service, or over a plate
of mash at my Grandpa’s retirement home. They listen, and they seem so excited
by the opportunities that we have. One lady almost dropped her purse when I
told her I am planning to live overseas for five months, and recovered by
peppering me with weather recommendations and how many layers I should take,
looking me in the eye to say especially: “Make the most of everything.”
They make you forget
about yourself for a while. They are detached from millenial worries, and it’s
easy to catch on to their sweeping force of positivity and their firm forgetfulness
to complain about even the worst things. Like, that they can’t properly taste
their dinner, or that they might, you know, die
soon. An old man sprung through the door at work last week, and I smiled and
gave him a worn, “How are you today?” He leant harder into his walking cane,
and beamed impossibly, answering me: “Better than I deserve!” I was mesmorized
by the well of enthusiasm that came from someone who probably had a lot to
lament. What you have is wonderful, and old people just seem grateful, you
know?
They’re also deeply
enthusiastic about all the potential us young folk have, and how handsome you look today. Just agree, non-wrinkled
skin looks good on you, they will say. They’ll love sharing their stories, and
unintentionally reminding you that you’re actually doing OK with your life.
They don’t measure achievement the same way students do, because the
egotistical phase of certificates and competition for the lengthiest CV has
passed: they’re more into who are you, not what you do. (And which neighbour makes
the best rhubarb crumble, I’m obviously going to learn this skill before I get
old.)
Researchers, or smart
people, say that experience makes you wise. This makes people with walkers the
wisest tribe on the earth, and it’s been recognized for years, as empires and
civilizations have turned to a counsel of elders for advice. I am convinced
that my Grandpa knows everything, he
even specializes in American politics, which (as of recent) has made
conversation amusing for us both. His belief in hard work and the attitude of
‘everything will work out’ means that whenever I’ve had a bad day, I can trust
his encouragement and vigorous assurance (received over a handful of nuts ‘n raisins,
the only snack he’s had in his pantry since 1885).
My friends don’t know
it, I might not know it, but my Grandpa knows it well. He knows the meaning of
life. He knows the value of a hug, the importance of politeness, the quest of
curiousity, the reward of perserverance, the bounty of compassion, the profit
of stewardship, the honour of service, and the profit in generosity.
Do you like talking to old people?
Mads xx
I completely agree! I've been doing some charity fundraising over the last two weeks and I love it when old people come up to me and tell me their stories and experiences, it's just so lovely and nice!
ReplyDeleteAleeha xXx
http://www.halesaaw.co.uk/
they're so sweet oh my :')
DeleteAt first, I must admit that I love this post,there is a lot of true in it and it encourages reflection. Talking with old people always bring me positive reactions and especially I like what you said that "They are so relaxed with reality"
ReplyDeleteX
E.
thank you ❤
DeleteAmazing post, love the photos ^^ <3
ReplyDeletewww.beautiliciousd.blogspot.com
Thanks! Oh and me too, Omaha is beautiful
DeleteI love this post and I agree so much, the comment about the lemon tree melts my heart. such a lovely post! X
ReplyDeletehttps://bloggerwithoutaclue.blogspot.co.uk/
Bonus: my grandma's lemonade is THE BEST
DeleteI love this perspective! You're so right that it's nice to be reminded to just slow down and to make some memories!
ReplyDelete🍉 Pia
http://gymbagsandjetlags.com
Life is short! (Probably seems shorter when you're eighty.)
Deleteokay sorry but I have to keep commenting but I feel this so hard! old people make you exited about things you would never think were exiting, it reminds me of a meme I saw the other day that said something along the lines of "The problem with this world is that no one snaps peas with Grandma anymore" and this blog post reminded me of it but this was very nice to read,
ReplyDelete-Eden