The generation gap

I am embarrassed to say this, but I’m a bad granddaughter. I call my grandparents (who live about eight hours away) rarely, and when I do, it’s out of guilt. At 8:30 Sunday night my mom asked if I had called to wish them a happy Easter, and urged me to do so before going to bed. I didn’t.

Part of the reason is that I have nothing to say to them. Though my grandparents are good people, conversation with them isn’t exactly stimulating. My grandpa (he’s 91) rarely talks, and my grandma doesn’t have anything to talk about. She stays in their apartment at their retirement village all day long watching TV, and doesn’t attend any social activities. So she can’t tell me any stories from her life. Neither of my grandparents finished high school, so we don’t exactly debate the meaning of life when we talk. About the only thing left is talking about my life, and whenever I tell them what’s going on, they don’t have much reaction. If they do, they spout clichés. Here’s an example: “Hi Grandma and Grandpa. Yeah, I’ve been really bored at work recently. I’m glad it’s the weekend.” Them: “Well, you still have to work for a living.” End of conversation.

I wonder, will I be like this when I’m 80+? Will I have a difficult time relating to my grandkids and great-grandkids (yes, I say this as a definite, because we will have children someday, no matter what it takes)? I already feel like an old fogie with the high school kids at our church youth group, and I’m 29!

I’ve already gotten a glimpse at what life can be like when all you do is think about your medical condition. And so far, I only have the one. What about when every part of my body—not just my ovaries—is breaking down?