Vis'ting

Growing up I spent a lot of time with my maternal Grandmother. Grandma Holbrook was born in 1912. She wasn't the cuddly kind of Grandma. She was tough as nails (literally, FYI), and came from an era where people had kids because they needed work done. She didn't really put me to work so much, however she was also disinclined to indulge any of my whining.

Grandma lived in a rural area where, in the past, her survival had depended upon her ability to maintain relationships with her "neighbors". In case you aren't familiar with country neighbors...the term really applies to almost anybody on your country block. And a country block might be three miles on a side. I recall that one time Grandma needed to make a delivery to Mrs. McManus down the road. Except that she really wasn't in the mood to chat for the hour and a half or so that she would need to invest if she arrived on Mrs. McManus's doorstep. So, she sent me to make the delivery on her behalf. I trudged a mile down the road with her package only to be regaled by Mrs. McManus about all manner of goodness knows what. I barely escaped her by dinner time, which may have been Grandmother's plan all along. She probably planned to kill two birds with one stone by making the delivery and keeping me occupied.

Grandma believed in running Errands. Whenever she said she needed to stop at a store, we all knew what she meant. This was going to be a full day of driving all over the better part of three counties. We would be packing sandwiches because there was a 0% chance that we would be home in time for lunch. In fact, there was a very good chance we'd be missing dinner too!

The trip would usually start with a logical premise: "I need to pick up some plants from Frank's Nursery". So, out the door we would head. A keen observer might wonder "Why do we need a bag full of sandwiches to go to one store?" But it would really be a waste to leave the house and drive all the way to Lansing for one store. So we would stop at several houses on the way to Frank's, vis'ting with people along the way. There would be at least two stops on the way to Frank's. And, you know, if you're in Lansing, you really need to stop at Horrock's. So, we'd stop there. Then we'd stop at half a dozen other businesses. Then we'd hopscotch back home, vis'ting with three or four people on the way back.

These trips used to leave Grandma exhausted for a day or two due to their length. But, as soon as she recovered, she would cook up some pretense for another trip and off we would go.

I never understood her obsession with "Vis'ting". At least, not until today. This morning I had the pleasure of visiting a friend from high school and her husband. We chatted for quite a while, exchanging stories and filling in the gaps left by the intervening years. Our kids played while we talked. When I left I reflected on how nice it was to catch up and make a connection with another person, in person.

Recent research indicates that people who maintain more connections with others live longer. Grandma lived longer than expected. She beat lymphoma into a ten year remission. She was hospitalized for nearly six months. Afterwards she had to walk with leg braces. On her way home from the hospital I am pretty sure she said something like "Do you mind if we stop at Frank's on the way home? As long as we're out this way, I need some vegetables from Horrock's. It's been a while since I checked in on Mrs. Johnson. You wouldn't mind one more stop, would you?"

As a kid I am sure I would have groaned "Here we go again!" After today, I might have said "That sounds like a good idea, Grandma. Do you s'pose she needs anything from 'Meijer's'?"

Scary Aunt

Wow! If I believed in guilt, I'd feel terrible about how long it has been since I wrote a post.

Today I remembered something from my childhood. My Mom had a motor home. We made regular trips to Lake Michigan near Muskegon. My next oldest sibling was eleven years older than I am, so it's fair to assume that my Mom had her fill of kid crap before I came along. We used to take these Lake Michigan trips with my Aunt Judy. One of my Mom's favorite threats to enforce good behavior was "If you're naughty, you'll have to go sit with Aunt Judy!"

One day I crossed the line. I'm not sure where the line was, or what I did to cross it. But I did. So, I was sent to the front passenger seat of the motor (Aunt Judy was driving). I plopped down in the seat, with my most sullen face on. Furious that I had been banished. I should note that at this time, I really had not spoken much with Aunt Judy. When you're a kid, you don't pay much attention to adults.

So, there I was. Exiled to the front of the motor home. Terrified of what sort of awful thing my Aunt was going to do to me. She spoke first. "So, you must have gotten sent here because you were naughty?"

I stuck out my bottom lip and nodded.

"This must be pretty scary, huh?"

Again, I nodded.

"Tell me...which things have I done that were really scary?"

I thought on this for a while. Try as I might, I couldn't think of anything. In fact...I realized pretty quickly that my Aunt had been used as a threat because we were terrified of her, but she had really done very little to earn her reputation as a terrifying person. At least to us kids. My aunt and I chatted for the remaining two hours of the drive and it turned out that she wasn't always scary. I won't say "She wasn't scary" because she sometimes had a sharp tongue, but it turned out that she directed it at me (or any of us kids) very little.

As an adult I still question my opinions of people and whether they come from experience or reputation.