Time as Seen Through the Eyes of My Grandparents

When I was about 12 or 13 years old, I heard my grandmother say that my grandfather was “failing fast” while we were on vacation. Up until that point, the concept of failing to me was about not doing well in school. Soon after, my mom spoke to me and said, “We don’t know how much longer grandpa will be around.” Time- what a foreign concept when you’re a kid. A 1/2 hour after a trip to the dentist seemed like an eternity to not be able to eat or drink. Time has an end? I didn’t quite understand the concept of anyone not being “here” anymore. I hadn’t really experienced the death of anyone very close to me.

Not knowing what anyone was talking about, I took what I thought was appropriate action. I made a conscious effort every night to spend time with grandpa as he sat in the living room watching TV. We rarely even spoke about much, it was just the act of me being there that made him happy. I’d bring a game to play or a book to read. I always had to be doing something deemed “productive” so that my life could advance.

When both of my grandparents passed away, there was a clear cut moment when I knew the idea of them being in the “present” would pass into another dimension, as I like to think of it. I said “goodbye” to my grandfather in a hospital room. He had a stroke and took the side of his body that he could move and grabbed me close as I cried. The tender grab of my face with my grandmother in tears as I left to get on a plane was different than any other goodbye I had ever experienced. I would never see her again. These were signs that my grandparents would be “there” just not “here”

Not everyone is so lucky to say “goodbye,” but maybe it’s not actually necessary.

My grandparents were absolute masters at living in the present. It’s something that’s difficult to achieve. I think my grandparents taught me that we live for all moments- the good and the bad. When we sew it all together that’s how we get a life. I loved watching my grandparents in their daly routines, mundane as they may have seemed to anyone else. They would cook, grocery shop, garden and sit on the swing just talking. I relished every moment.

Time is a somewhat foreign concept to me. Time goes by and things happen and we end up at a certain point. It’s all those seemingly meaningless things in the middle that make up our lives, but they’re never the highlight.

My life moved forward, and my grandparents lives seemed to be frozen in time. Their presence was a constant. The routine was a feeling of safety. With college applications, essays and the desire for a successful career, my head was always in the clouds of the future. Yet now, when I think of the memories of grandparents, the moments I think of are the simple ones. As change becomes the norm in my life, I think of those days and my grandparents with their absolute feeling of contentment living in the present. They never needed more than to enjoy their routine and be loved.

Time is limited. The past assists us in the present; while dreaming of the future keeps us going. It’s often the simplest not the ornate moments that teach us the most. While I still don’t know what to do with time, I think I may have learned my lesson when I was 12- just live in the moment and be.