This country idolizes youth and demeans the "old people" with jokes and insults, but this post by Bernard Otis shows what the older generation brings that younger people should learn. The civility, good manners, kindness, patriotism and many other things we were taught when we were growing up seems to be missing with some of our youth. He also mentions the value of having grandparents living near and how he enjoyed his grandmother living with him and his parents.    

I teach senior adults to write about their lives. In a world where families are scattered here and yonder, grandparents are aware their grand-kids might never know about the old days when kids could play and run free. I think telling their life stories on paper validates the men and women who hope their stories will matter to future generations of their families.

I believe those children who have no interest in the lives of their grandparents today will, someday, be happy to have those memories written for them to read.

I have no children to whom I can pass on my stories, but I write about all of my family. I hope my nieces and nephews will enjoy reading about their ancestors.

Council and Robison families with lots of my nieces and nephews

New Year's Coming - Bring it on!

2015 flew past as all the years seem to do now, each day seemingly shorter. Today as I sit here on December 28 with my doors and windows open to enjoy the warm temperatures and the sound of a slow rain falling in my woods, I wish for many more days like this. Quiet times to observe nature and hear sounds I don't hear when my heat pump is on or my AC is blasting. 

I think I need more quiet time like this, but it seems time passes too quickly. Since I found my voice and became the woman I had inside me all these years, there is no end to all the things I want to do, to see, to become part of. 

On my way home Sunday, I stopped to eat at a popular steak house. I had totally forgotten it was Sunday. The past few days had seemed like Sunday to me with all the Christmas celebrations going on. With only a choice of sitting at the bar or waiting a long time, I chose the bar. I ended up sitting where the bar curved around and became a table of ordinary height. A single woman sat two seats over and right away she began a conversation. I learned that she was 80 years old and lived alone in Elijay, GA where the steak house was located. She had ordered a hamburger, but I used a gift card I had received and ordered a prime rib dinner. Oh, was it good!

We enjoyed the best conversation while we ate our meal. I don't know her name, and she doesn't know mine. We will not likely ever meet again, but she said she was glad I had sat down beside her because she had enjoyed getting to know me. "I don't like to eat alone," she said.

I think she often eats alone. Her husband is in Alaska. Not for a visit, but he lives there. Her grown children in the Atlanta area seldom come to visit, she told me. But she loves her house in the mountains, being so close to nature, seeing bear cubs and wild turkeys in her yard. 

We discussed the health problems that often come with age and how difficult it is to find a doctor who will listen while you tell them what you know about your own body. She said her children have no clue about her health problems, and they don't want to hear about them. She is diabetic with nerve pain in her feet. From our conversation, I can tell she spends much time on the Internet. This made me think again about technology and my love/hate relationship with it. I often feel it takes too much of my time but for this woman, the Internet is her outlet to the world, a place where she continues to learn new things, her way to converse with her family and others. 

For over an hour we two strangers ate and conversed. The time passed quickly, and we were both happy that we had come in alone. As my dinner companion said, "I love to talk with strangers. I learn so much that way."

She reminded me of my mother who talked with anyone she met--in line at the store, in the elevator, standing at the meat counter in the super market and always in waiting rooms. I have that gene, too.

If I smile at someone and they smile back, I know they are open to conversation. 

Since time is the most precious commodity I own, I hate to waste it. Having dinner conversation with the lady at the steak house was not wasted. She showed me her Fitbit and told me how she used it as a reminder of when to take medication, when to exercise, and many other things that helped her live better. I had thought a Fitbit was just for athletic people to keep up with how many calories they burned, etc. But now I might look into seeing how this new technology could be helpful in my life.  

My husband, Barry Beall, liked people and talked to everyone. I wrote this poem before I became one who also talks to strangers.

Never a Stranger

                    --- for Barry

I watch you and I'm jealous.  You talk

to people on the elevator, at the airport

waiting, at the grocery store in front

of the cucumbers.

I stand stiff, my eyes averted from

the woman's eyes, in line at the post office

window. What should I say?

I don't want to be intrusive.

Never lost for words, you smile

and burst right in. The stranger's

eyes light up and suddenly she has

become a friend.

--- by Glenda Council Beall

Photo to the right: Lois Robison Council, one of my first and best advisers, as a young lady.

Left: My big sister, June in 1947.

I received an email from my friend Shirley regarding a new anthology planned by a man named John Curtis. He has the idea of having "elders" like me write about what we think young people might gain from our generation. I plan to be on a conference call tomorrow night to learn more about this book.

It hurts sometimes to see young folk fumble and fall into situations which could have been avoided if they had turned to someone who had experience with similar problems in life. And it is hard for older people to give advice unless they are asked. No one wants to "stick her nose" into someone's business unless asked.

I am thankful I had my sister June to go to when I needed advice. I also had my mother. My problem was I didn't always listen and I was not convinced they understood my problems when I was a teen.

But as I grew older, I learned to listen to the wise advice of my older siblings and my parents. I learned from my mother-in-law.

How sad it must be to have no one to go to when you have a heavy decision to make.

That is why family is important. Even when family drives us nuts, we always know we have each other and when the chips are down, we will be there to lean on. I miss my brother Ray's sage financial advice. I could always call him when I had a question. His was a true Horatio Alger story, from rags to riches, and I valued his ideas. My brother Hal gave us good advice when we were newlyweds. And Rex still advises me on investments. He willingly shares his successes.

What would I do without my biggest supporter, my sister Gay? Although younger than I, she is wise and wonderful.

The ability to listen and consider the opinions or ideas of others doesn't come easily sometimes. Clinging stubbornly to the wrong way in order to protect our egos can be a heart-breaking path. "I've always done it this way, and I'm not going to change." This attitude can be costly and painful. When I took the position of leader of our writers group it was difficult to go against a former leader's argument of how "it was done in the past."

But after I took a close look at where we were and the changes that had come about in the past ten years, I used what I had learned from her and others involved and put my own ideas into the mix to build an even better literary group for all our members.

We can all learn from others - either what to do or what not to do - by listening or observing, and we can pass on what we have learned in our life stories, in anthologies and poems. If you haven't begun writing about your life, don't wait another day.