When They Were Young

They weren’t always your great grandparents or great aunts, you know.

Once, they were young and full of, well...something and vinegar.  My mom reads this blog, so let’s keep it clean here folks.

It’s tempting to think of those who you know only with a few gray hairs or a wrinkle here or there as though they were born into adulthood.  You’d be forgiven if you didn’t think about the fact that, once, they listened to their music too loudly and their parents yelled at them for doing some of the most unholy activities. 

Like dancing.

Funny story about dancing:  One year over Christmas dinner, my great aunt told our family about a time when she and her then fiancé went out for an evening of cutting a rug, dinner, and drinks.  Apparently more than one or two drinks.  As she reached the pinnacle of the story, she uttered the iconic line that we would quote for years:

“...and then we fell into the orchestra pit.”

She was in her mid-eighties when she shared that moment.

Her voice trailed off and, for a brief moment, she was in her roaring twenties, spinning around the dance floor with her handsome date again.  I wanted to hear more of the story, but she laughed it off and we moved onto another memory.  That’s a shame.  She was a character.

So was her sister, one of my other great aunts.  There is a picture of her with her freshly scrubbed young husband smiling like sweet, innocent young cherubs at a dinner table along with another couple.  That is, until your gaze glances down and you notice approximately sixteen shot glasses and a whiskey bottle next to them.  When I knew them, they were in their living room watching The Merv Griffin Showor at family reunions bringing chicken casserole and deviled eggs.  It never occurred to me that, years ago, they might have once been the life of the party.

Because they weren’t always your great aunts, you see.

They were young women once.  The world was their oyster.  They rolled their eyes a lot at older generations that didn’t get them as well.  They wanted to see bright lights and big cities, like...Chattanooga.  You should have seen them back in the day, those crazy kids.  

They weren’t always your Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, or Papa either.

In fact, they were the ones that ushered in rock and roll.  In a ten year span, they went from swooning over Elvis to ushering in the Age of Aquarius.  Those girls wearing beehive hairdos and white go-go boots that you see on clips dancing the Twist and the Mashed Potato on American Bandstand?  The baby-faced couple with love beads around their neck and flowers in their hair?  

Someone calls them Mamaw and Papaw now.  

And no, they weren’t always your Mom and Dad....or your Oma and Papa.

They sported big hair styled with enough gel to cover a Buick.  So did the girls.  They felt sorely misunderstood and yearned to spread their wings of freedom away from the safety of the nest.  Just like you.  They didn’t always complain about their achy knees or bursitis.  Once, people came to them for help with technology rather than sporting the befuddled expression you see now when they try to figure out the remote.  I know, it’s hard to fathom.  It is for them too.

I’ve been looking through a lot of family photos lately.  There are pictures of relatives, both in their bright-eyed youth and later, with some life painted on the canvas.  I often wonder what the older model would tell the younger version of themselves?  I can’t be certain, but I bet it would go something like this:

Enjoy the here and now a little more.  It goes so fast.

The gray hairs and wrinkles are like the dust jacket of a great book.  There’s a rich story if you'll look inside.

Dance until you fall into the orchestra pit.

Go now.  The band is just getting warmed up.