We had just crossed the barrier from 1975 into 1976, the US Bicentennial. We had just entered the final quarter of the twentieth century, the second half of the 1970s. I remember that house on Carol Drive; it had warmth and love.
My sisters and I would have conversations with my grandmother; it was so much fun. Looking back on them, I can see her appreciation for her time with us. We did not understand it then, but to her, she was right there, taking it all in, really appreciating where she was at the time.
This is fantastic when you consider that she had nothing. She had a $400 66 Chevrolet Bel Aire. A small World War 2 saltbox house. A $39 a month pension from the factory that she had worked much too hard under terrible conditions. But Violet Mable Allaire Jackson was born in 1908 and was from what is known as the Greatest Generation. That generation did not complain about things. They had unparalleled endurance.
I had no idea how fortunate I was to have spent the years with her, my father's mother, and my grandfather, my mother's father. I feel a great privilege to be a bridge that can connect those wonderful people of the Greatest Generation to my children of Generation Z. When I contemplate this, I understand that I need to pause and reflect on the influence and teaching they provided. It is the anchor needed in a world where gravity almost does not exist or when there is too much of it.
I recall that on one of those weekends at Grandma's house, we talked about the very far-away Year 2000. It seemed as far away, just as possible, as any of us going to the moon. It would be another 24 full years to cross. We did the math. I would be an “old 34-years old” at that time. That seemed so old!
Well, guess what? I blinked, and it is now January 1st, 2025. I am at the balance point we were on January 1st, 1976. We are now in the last year of the 1st quarter of the 2000s. So much happened in that last quarter of the 20th century, and of course, even more occurred in the first quarter of the 21st.
I was 10 on January 1st, 1976, and am 59 today. Those years taught me many lessons, leading me to the inevitable question: What is the most important advice I can give from the road traveled this far? The late Warren Zevon summed it up.
On October 30, 2002, David Letterman asked Warren how his recent terminal diagnosis had affected his life lately: "You put more value in every minute," he noted. "It's more valuable now. You're reminded to enjoy every sandwich."
It is the finest thing you can do when striving to find the good you have right now. Just like my Grandmother sitting at her table in that little kitchen on Carol Drive, listening to my sisters and I telling her about the last 2 weeks since we last visited her. She hung on to every word and appreciated where she was at that moment. Any sadness she experienced over the years and hardships she endured paid no rent in this space.
It should be this way. Hardship highlights priorities, but we can also check ourselves daily to ensure we are focussing on what is really important. The first day of a year is just another number. It is just a visible flaw in the surface that provokes my associative memory. It is just another reminder to be here now.
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