A One of A Kind Love

For this next post, I can not take the credit for gathering the story. All the credit goes to Humans of New York.

Although I can not take credit for the story or the images, I still find it important to share on this blog. I can not express how important recognizing the long and rigourous lives of the elderly. It needs to be remembered that they love, hurt, laugh, cry, and most importantly-live.




“I was nineteen. She was sixteen. Our dates were normally on Sunday. We didn’t do much of anything. We were conservative. I was a farmer. We weren’t those swinging type people. But every date was a little more cuddly. Then she took me to her senior prom. It was just ten miles from here—in Richmond. I was the only one there without a tuxedo. All those city folks didn’t know what to make of me. I can’t tell you when we fell in love. I can’t even tell you when I asked her to marry me. It was just natural. I think we were just sitting in the car and I gave her the ring. I don’t have many big moments to share. We were simple people. They were all happy days."




“We celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary in Branson, Missouri. On the drive home, she kept telling me that we were going the wrong way. She was very insistent. I didn’t fight her. I kept letting her turn around because I knew that eventually we’d hit the main road back to Michigan. I knew then. Her father had dementia. And so did his father. So I knew what was happening. Soon she started forgetting names. When it started getting really bad, she wanted to walk away. She was always trying to leave the house. I’d have to lie in front of the door to keep her from going. One morning I woke up and I couldn’t find her. I freaked out: ‘Where did she go? Where did she go?’ I ran outside and it was totally dark. Down the road there was a streetlight. And I could barely see her—crossing the road. I ran and I got her. But she fought me. She didn’t want to come back home.”





“I miss that we can’t go out and dance. Or visit other people. We used to volunteer at the senior center every Wednesday. She’d play the piano, and I’d turn the pages for her. The hymns were some of the last things she remembered. Music was her life. But one day she wouldn’t play anymore. And I told the staff that they’d need to find someone else. So we stay here now. But I don’t see this as a curse. It’s an honor. This is what the Lord has given me to do. She has served this family her entire life. And now it’s my turn to serve her. I might not have her mentally. But I have her. I can still make her smile. I can make bubbly noises, and blow on her, and she’ll smile. Every morning we’ll sit in this chair and we’ll cuddle until noon. I rock this lady more than I rock my grandchildren. She likes to slip her hand under my shirt to feel my skin. And she still likes to kiss. Every once in awhile she’ll reach up and give me a kiss. Sometimes she starts ‘yakking.’ She doesn’t say actual words. And it doesn’t make any sense. But I never tell her to be quiet, because it’s better than nothing at all.”

Old Age Inspiration of the Day

Inspirational Oldie of the Week: Olive Riley

Grammyism: "I don't know how to work this thing!" (Referring to her phone)

(20 October 1899- 12 July 2008) 

Olive Riley created a blog called The Life of Riley in February of 2007 at the age of 107 years old. Olive, who called blogging "blobbing" was inspired to make her blog by a documentary film maker, Mark Rubbo who named his documentary All About Olive. The documentary was based on the lives of people who have lived to be 100 years old or older. 

Although olive did not make fame within the press world, she sure did inspire and gain adoration from the blogging world. 

Mark Rubbo announced her death through a blog post on Olive's blog:

It’s funny to say this, but doing the blog with her, doing all the typing, the photographs, the movies, has been a big part of my life this last year, something that many friends couldn’t quite understand.

“Why all this effort for an old lady? they’d ask, “Are you in a hurry to age yourself?” (Me being 70 this year)

Quite the contrary. Olive Riley’s been keeping me young... if a woman who left school in 1914 can embrace the internet in her 106th year, what is there you can’t do, friend?

I was gob smacked by this dame with a memory like a hard drive. At 104, Olive was able to remember conversations she’d had in 1908 and bring them to life. Amazing!

I knew I’d not only found my film star, but I that I’d been given a reprieve from worries {about my own death}.

Post Olive, there’d be no sense of having an age limit, no downward slope for me!
 

The moral of Olive's story is that we don't have to let youth escape us no matter our age! As long as we open ourselves to the wonders of generations, our hearts can be young forever. 

Little Old Donald: What a guy!

Grammyism: "Somebody's gotta do it."

"And Im old Donald."

I do not know his last name, nor do I know the name of his parents. I do not know what he stands for, nor do I know his life story.

Donald does not know my last name, nor does he know the name of my parents. Donald does not know what I stand for, nor does me know my life story.

I have only met Donald once.

In the middle of the North Brookfield Senior Center, chatting with a group of other volunteers for the Senior Memoir Writing Workshop, I feel a shaky hand, firmly grip my shoulder.

I look over to my right side where a wrinkled profile of a man's face is now the new caption of the young girl who was just standing next to me. Old Donald had each of his arms around the shoulders of both myself, and the girl.

I did not know who he was. I couldn't help but think that I would never build up the nerve to approach two people randomly, but perhaps old age would build up my courage. What would I have to lose.

Old Donald taught me a lesson: You can't allow fear of embarrassment to keep you from doing or trying new things, even if it is as simple as confidently approaching people you have never met before.

As silly as it sounds, Donald inspired me with his small gesture and reminded me that half of the embarrassing experiences that most people in their teenage years view as life-changing, but in reality, those dreaded times will be minuscule memories by the time we are Old Donald's age.

Moral of the story: Don't sweat the small stuff!

Inspirational Oldie of the Week: Elie Wiesel

Grammyism: "I want to enjoy this good time."

" I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."

Born: September 30, 1928 in  Sighetu Marmației, RomaniaDied: July 2, 2016
Spouse: Marion Wiesel (1969-2016)
Children:  Shlomo Elisha WieselAwards: Nobel Piece Prize, Metal of Liberty, Presidential Medal of Freedom, Congressional Gold Metal, National Humanities Medal, Lifetime Literacy Achievement Award, Prix Medicis, National Jewish Book Award
Those of you who have heard of Elie Wiesel may have read his memoir Night, which captures his horrific experience in the Holocaust. Although Elie Wiesel's story is as tragic as one's could be, he captures it through his writing in a way that brings beauty. In his writing, he gives the millions of lives lost, a voice.

At the age of 15, Wiesel and his family were forced from their homes by Hungarian gendarmerie and the German SS and police from Sighet to Auschwitz. His mother and younger sister Tziporagey seperated from Elie and his father Shlomo. The last time his mother and Younger sister are seen was when they we're standing across from Elie in a separate categorized line on the other side of the camp. In January of 1945, Elie and his father are moved to Buchenwald Concentration camp- eventually the land in which Elie would witness his father suffer and finally perish. Elie was now left with no alone in a land of torture, sinister acts, and hopelessness. 

The heartbreaking truth is that his father died a mere 3 months before Buchenwald was finally liberated on April 11, 1945. That same day, Elie and other children of deceased family, are transferred to an orphanage in France. In Night, Elie explained that when he looked in the mirror for the first time since he  was in the concentration camps, Elie did not recognize who he was and felt as though a stranger was looking back at him. Could you imagine not knowing  or recognizing yourself? I certainly can not. 

In the time after the liberation, Elie became reunited with his two surviving older sister after one of them saw a photo of him in the orphanage. Years later, it became clear Elie didn't allow all of his pain to break him down. Instead, Elie used his brilliance, skill, and strength to speak for those who have lost there voice. He spoke out against Bosnian Ethnic cleansing, Combodian refugees, and South African apartheid.Later in Elie's life, he achieves more than most is one life time. In 1960, Night is released after being translated into English. Three years later, Elie becomes an American Citizen. In the years of 1972-1976, he becomes a distinguished Professor of Judaic Studies at the City University of New York. In 1978, he is appointed chairman of the Prssident's Commission on the Holocaust by president Jimmy Carter and a year later, he is appointed founding chairman of The United States Holocaust Memorial Council. On April 19, 1985, Elie receives the Congressional Gold Medal from Ronald Reagan. A year later, he rightfully wins the Nobel Peace Prize. In 1987, The Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity is developed. In 2010, Prssident Obama presents Elie with the National Himanities Medal. 

On July 2, 2016, Elie Wiesel died of natural causes in his Manhattan home at the age of 87. Clearly Elie had a tragic life, but instead of becoming a man full of hatred and scorn, he pushed his pain and tragedy toward changing the world and preventing another human being from witnessing and experiencing the horror that Elie did himself. 

I can truly say that Elie Wiesel is one of the people that has inspired me most in my life so far. Who inspires you? Leave your inspirational oldie below! 

Politics Please

Grammyism: "We'll let you out anytime..."

Hey guys! Get ready to watch the second presidential debate! It will become our history soon enough!

                                 

Throwback to The Old Tantasqua Days

One thing that is often forgotten is that we are all a part of history. One day, what we are experiencing in our time will be taught in history classes to students much like ourselves. It is also  forgotten that thousands of people have walked the paths that we walk on a daily basis. "Who we are is who we were" was said by John Quincy Adams, and this video makes it apparent that students of Tantasqua today have evolved from the old Tantasqua. This video is from 1957, and will be a reminder that we are not all that different from students back then.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3Pui4cp3m0&sns=em

     

Its not just grandma or grandpa, ya know.

Grammyism: "Who, me? No!" 

Romania: 

 Language- Romanian

• Grandmother: Bunica 
• Grandfather: Bunic 

Fun Fact!

• Rifca Stanescu is the youngest grandparent in Romania- having her daughter at 12 years of age, who then had her son at age 11. Rifca is only 23 years old. 

Italy: 

Language- Italian 

• Grandmother: Nonna
• Grandfather: Nonno

Fun Fact! 

• In Italian tradition, it is know that parents will often name their first-born son after their paternal grandfather and their first-born daughter after their paternal grandmother. For the second-born son or daughter is named after their maternal grandfather or grandmother. 

Greece:

Language- Greek 

• Grandmother: Yaya
• Grandfather: Pappous 

Fun Fact!

• Most grandparents in Greece will live with their children's family for their whole life, and children tend to live with their parents until they get married. 

Belgium: 

Language- Flemish 

• Grandmother: Bomma
• Grandfather: Bonpa 

Fun Fact!

• In case you were wondering, The Smurfs were created by Belgian comic artist, Pierre Culliford in 1958.

Japan: 

Language- Japanese

• Grandmother: Oba-Chan, Sobo
• Grandfather: Ojiisan, Sofu

Fun Fact!

• The eldest son is marked the heir of the family, which means when his parents become too old, he will move them in and take care of them. 

United States of America:

Language- Hawaiian 

• Grandmother: Tutu, Kuku
• Grandfather: Tutu, Kane 

Fun Fact!

• Ohana means family!- Lil and Stitch

The Girouard Family: 

Language- English

• Grandmother- Grammy

Fun Fact! 

• My grammy is absolutely crazy, and she knows it. 

Source of Information: http://www.grandparents.com/family-and-relationships/grandparent-names/grandpa-grandma-different-languages

Paper Bags and Popcorn

Grammyism: "I know, Im bad. What can I say?"

At least once or twice a month, a small old women whose name I do not know, waltzes in to my work, Cinemagic, with a large paper bag. This old women, probably my height in her younger years, reminds me of how short I will be at her age- barely able to rest her elbows on the counter. 

Most visits, she orders a large and a medium popcorn- both unbuttered and unsalted. Other times she may get a small, instead of a medium, with a large. I always seem to be the one to cash her out, and every time I wonder, Is all of this popcorn for herself? I also begin to wonder what lead to her popcorn routine. I have never built up the nerve to ask her, mostly because I don't want to disrupt her routine, but also because I like the mystery of it. The mystery of how some people become accustomed to certain things reminds me how unique everyones individual lives are. 

After little conversation and a complete transaction, the old women opens her large paper bag, places it on the floor- preparing it to cradle her familiar bags of popcorn. She leaves peacefully, bag in hand. Maybe next time I will gain the nerve to ask her about her popcorn routine. 

Maybe Too Many Years

Grammyism: "I don't want to live another life. This one was enough for me."

Within the past six years, I have truly gotten to know my grandmother. She is probably the most stubborn women I have met- refusing to rest while she is sick because she isn't "an invalid." She is also the strongest woman- overcoming more tragedy and heartbreak in her seventy-nine years of life. She raised her three daughters alone while her alcoholic husband drank himself into a deeper grave. Two out of her three daughters turned to reckless substances to mask their sadness- my grandmother left behind, mourning their lost identities. As a result of their actions, she had to raise two of her granddaughters for the next nine years. Years later, my grandmother lost a piece of herself with the tragic death of her daughter, Valerie, and also my mother. My entire family was afraid my grandmothers life would come to a sudden halt as well, and for a while the life within her did reach a dead end- but today she continues to praise her life and all it stands for.

I know it may be strange, but I appreciate my grandmother so much more because she is an elderly woman, with her own history and story. Those who are older are too often seen as a walking death sentence. The elderly are too often viewed as "old" or "ancient." I have been inspired by my grandmother to not only share her story, but also the stories of so many other elderly men and women  who don't have a voice. It is important to be reminded that they, too, were young once, as we are now. It is important to remember that most of us will be part of that older community one day- sharing our stories to the next generations. It is important to know that we will one day become what many of us fear the most- old. Along with many of you, I am terrified of old age. Not only will our young complexions fade, but our bodies will begin to turn on us, and often times, our minds. But what I find comforting is that no one can take the story of my life away. We will only lose our stories if they are never told and completely forgotten, so why not read and share the stories of those who are older now? With this blog, I plan to keep the stories of older generations alive, even when they are long gone. With their stories, I hope to help you, and myself, find the beauty in growing old.  The main question we should all think about  is: Why is living a long life and becoming old so unsettling?