More than likely at some point or another you have heard a story about "the good ole' days." This morning, was one of those ocassions for me.
All throughout my childhood I have heard stories from various people about the Titanic sinking, WWI, WWII, The Great Depression, The Korean War, and the Vietnam War. Each one of them serving a different purpose and a different moral that I was to learn from them.
The stories ranged from morals dealing with hunger, starvation, poverty, fighting, patriotism, being strong, to having to stand up and fight for things you didn't necessarily believe in. Each one of them most of the time, too graphic for a young child to be hearing about. But at any rate, important none the less.
Now, I hear stories from family members that had loved ones trapped in the World Trade Centers on 9-11 or family members that had loved ones on the planes or the rescue crews. I hear stories from soldiers that went and fought in the War in Afghanistan and Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Although I have heard all these stories, nothing hit me quite so hard as what my grandmother happened to mention in the car this morning.
While driving to Church this morning, my grandmother started talking about her trip to the Galleria the previous day. She was annoyed that she couldn't find a table to sit at by the carousel but, not caring enough, she went and sat in the area where there are birthday parties taking place. In the midst of talking about her lunch, she looked at me and said,
I can't believe how far we have come. I guess it's just something about the times that I grew up in, but seeing black and white kids sitting together still seems a little weird to me.
Now, please understand that my grandmother is not a racist. But, the simplicity and profoundness of this statement just hit me all at one time. I got to thinking about what I will be telling my grandkids later on in life. Then I got to thinking about what would seem strange to me that they would look at me and just laugh at with that, "Oh grandma, you are so funny," expression on their face.
In her child hood, my grandmother grew up with segregated schools. She grew up with women staying at home and taking care of the kids for the most part. She grew up with all of these different things that seem strange to her now.
She didn't grow up with the computer, the television, the IPhones and ITouches, or even cell phones for that matter. No, she just grew up with simplicity.
I got to thinking about things that might happen later on that might effect me and my grandkids. Besides the government (and I'll leave that for another posting), what about gay marriage, stem cell research, abortion, health care, AIDS, cancer, God, and biracial relationships?
Will these things be run of the mill by the time I have grandkids and will they simply look at me and think of how old I must really be? Will I go to tell them about the attack on the World Trade Centers and still remember every detail as I do now?
I hope so. Because the stories I've heard have changed my life. And so did the simple statement that my grandmother made on the way to Church this morning. And the funny thing is, I bet she didn't even think her lunch was that important.