The Poosey Digest: Growing up in an easier time

The old man eased himself into his customary chair beside the retirement home’s south windows. It was always a joyous occasion when his grandchildren came to visit. He was blessed and he knew it. Many of his friends at the home lived too far away from kin to keep in close contact while others simply didn’t have anyone to come visit them.

He smiled when he saw the pair of youngsters hop out Mom’s car, dash through the automatic doors and nearly running over the little old lady who insists every afternoon in parking her wheelchair in the middle of the hallway.

In 20 steps and two shouts of "Hi, Grandpa!" they were upon him.

This was his favorite part of the week. Saturday afternoon with his grandchildren. And the thing that pleased him most is that they actually looked forward to their weekly visits. In fact, they insisted that their mother come visit her father at another time because they wanted time alone with Grandpa.

The little boy was always amazed that his very own grandfather actually rode a horse to school and his first request was always, "Got any more horse stories, Grandpa?"

The old man was happy to oblige. The horses, pumping water from a well, taking baths in front of the stove on Saturday night, milking the cows, and trading eggs for groceries were memories kept alive by the weekly inquisitions of a doting grandson.

"But what if they called off school?"

"They hardly ever called off school, but if they did I’d just turn Buster around and go home."

"They didn’t call to tell you?"

"Call on what? We didn’t have no phones."

This was an object of curiosity that the little girl could never quite get her mind around. "Well, I don’t understand that at all," she said. "How did you know what was going on without a phone?"

"I guess we didn’t. Can’t see as it hurt us none, though."

"But Grandpa…" and here her freckled face would pinch up a bit in real wonder, "Let’s say your mommy or daddy had to get hold of you? Tell you something? How’d they do it?"

"As I recall it, they shouted," he said.

The two little ones laughed. Grandpa was always so funny. "But how did your mama talk to you when you were at school or a ballgame?"

"She didn’t. Every morning she told me pretty much everything I need to know for the day and I remembered it."

The boy and girl looked at one another… maybe Grandpa didn’t understand the question. The old man sensed their confusion. "We remembered things back then. We had to. Sometimes we wrote them down."

"That sound impossible, Grandpa."

"I’ll bet it does. I’d go… heck… maybe a whole day that way. I’d get up in the morning, think through what I had to accomplish on that day, then I’d get at it."

"But what if you forgot stuff… like you got to school and didn’t have something or your mama was supposed to pick you up and you had to call her?"

"You forget something often enough you’ll start remembering it. Ain’t nothin’ like standin’ out in the cold to make you remember to arrange for a ride next time."

The little girl was still confused. "What happened when you got lonely or bored? How could you call somebody or text them without a phone?"

"I guess bein’ lonely’s a habit you can break if you use your own mind," he answered. "Heck, I always found plenty to do… and if I didn’t, my dad did."

"But didn’t your mom go crazy not knowin’ where you were all the time?"

"I don’t recollect her ever goin’ crazy. I guess she raised me right then trusted me."

A tiny look of panic came over the little girls face. She turned to her brother. "What time was Mama picking us up?"

"I forgot."

"Better call her."

The old man smiled as his grandson whipped out a cell phone and pushed a button. Poor kids… he thought to himself… growin’ up in such hard times that robs `em of their ability to make do on their own… plan their day. He was glad he grew up in an easier time.

You ever in Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.