A Changing of the Season
Sometimes it pays to just take a few minutes to reflect on where you have been, the road that was traveled. It can certainly help cure the desire to backtrack but it also identifies those paths that were worth another pass. This week, the unofficial end of summer has had me reflecting on the end of other summers past. It has only been three Septembers since I lost my lovely grandmother and it is at this time of year that I seem to be a little melancholy, missing what used to be. I often wonder what she would think of how things are now, three short, long, years since she walked on the soil of Jefferson County.
She was just one year short of ninety when she died – a member of the Greatest Generation. There just aren’t that many of them left and I believe that is reflected in our society. Her generation had a strong moral compass that didn’t include so many of the things that are prevalent today. In her day, reality television did not drive society, theater shootings and police ambushes did not exist. There was a quiet tolerance that was simply born of too little time and too much to do to be overly concerned with how others lived. There was compassion that was a result of seeing too many go without and strength of purpose that was born from the knowledge that sometimes there simply isn’t enough but that giving in was not an option. There was no time to worry about gender or race identification. And no desire to delve too deeply into what didn’t concern them or theirs.
She lived in a generation that actually talked to each other and appreciated the opportunity to do so. They could read voice inflections and interpret facial expressions, skills that seem to be lost or dismissed in the world today. The world has never been closer together or further apart than it is today. The Greatest Generation came from a place where marriage and family were important. Not just in childhood but throughout life. She was one of ten children and was close to every brother and sister until the day she left this earth. It seems that the ties that bound her generation were made with sterner stuff than our weak bonds.
I miss my grandmother everyday. Her wisdom and character, guidance and love. But as much as I miss her personally, society misses her generation. Certainly, they were not perfect but they possessed a love of family and country that is sadly missing in later generations. As the Greatest Generation goes the way of Old Glory and tradition I wonder what my grandchildren will attribute to my generation and those that follow. I hope that our greatest contribution is not the invent of reality television or the removal of the confederate flag or the change in gender pronouns. But, I fear that unlike the Greatest Generation, it will be what we have lost, rather than what we contributed, that will be our legacy. There is still time to change, but like sand through an hourglass and the Greatest Generation, it is quickly slipping away.
