Two Childhoods and the Years in Between

The thoughts expressed in this narrative have been running through my mind since I got old (and have had nothing better to do.) If you take the onset of ‘old age’ to be 65 years, I must be a Master of Survival, since I will never again see my 92nd birthday. I’m putting my ideas into print because, with the benefits of modern technology, one can now do so easier and cheaper than in years gone by.

Some of my comments concerning modern day ‘goings-on’ may surprise younger folk, who consider themselves to be ‘with it’, and who may regard me as a silly, stupid old codger. There is such a thing as the ‘generation gap,’ which is supposed to explain the perpetual differences that crop up between young people and their elders. The gap is only a time gap. The younger generation may not agree with this idea, but it stands to reason that the majority of older people have the benefit of years of observation. They have usually learned from their mistakes, and therefore, have built up a store of wisdom.

But the young think that they know it all — until they, themselves, reach advanced maturity. It has ever been so and will continue this way, making the youth of today – or today’s ‘know it alls’ – the silly old ‘so-and-sos’ of tomorrow.

I hope that I do not offend anybody – too much – by my beliefs. I am conscious that we all have different tastes and opinions. And so it should be. The world would be dull if we were all the same, endowed with the same wisdom. (We who were blessed with all that wisdom would have nobody to lecture.)

A very old friend of mine, who was not given the health to live into old age, had a saying which I believe to be true, “It takes all sorts, including us.”

This narrative was inspired by the television programmes, Grumpy Old Men and Grumpy Old Women. Mind you, many of those who took part in these TV shows were not as old – or as wise – as my generation. The TV programme is meant to be funny (at least, I think it is,) and if reading this narrative puts a smile on somebody’s face, even though they might secretly think, ”silly old fool”, then I shall be happy as I will have got to get some ‘grump’ out of my system.

From these, often critical observations, you may think my journey through life was a strange one. But even though my life experience may not have suited everybody, I wouldn’t change it. Strolling down Botairin Na smaointe (memory lane) has been a pleasant journey for me.