My friend’s Grandmother passed away last night. She was 94 years old. When we hear of the elderly dying, the first thing out of our mouths is so often along the lines of, “well, they had a full life,” but that seems sadly dismissive to me. While I imagine it does take some of the shock away, because we’re all going to die and being in your mid-90s is undeniably having a long life, I tend to view the elderly passing the same way I view the felling of a mature tree – what's left is a void that will never be filled in our lifetime.
I got to thinking about her age. Ninety-four. When she was born, the life expectancy for females was 51.8 years. Well, she showed them, didn’t she? She was born when Taft was President of the United States – and 17 Presidents were at the helm of this country during her lifetime. She lived through two world wars, Vietnam, and several others. Not to mention the prohibition. Stamps were 0.2 cents when she was born, and the average annual income was $750.00 a year. The transatlantic phone call had not yet been made. Can you imagine how far away walking on the moon or cell phones or vaccines were in the collective thinking at the time? Can you imagine the library of world events? She was alive when the Boston Red Sox won their first world series. And their second. She witnessed the debut of Kleenex, and the discovery of penicillin.
I never met her but I’ve heard a houseful of stories about her that left me laughing until I cried. The impression I got was that she was in many ways a lady, and in some ways a pistol. All the way up until last year she drove her big ‘ol car down the streets of her town – usually in the middle of the road. Say what you want about safety, but in Texas, we call that Character. A pistol indeed. May she rest in Peace.
