Curiosity ~ Lucidity ~ Humanity
I pick up Dad first, or Grandpa Jerry, as Carmen calls him. He’s 94 and can remember many poems by heart as if standing in front of his senior English class. But short-term memory is going. I lean over the bed and speak into his ear to wake him. He smiles with minimal teeth.
“We are going, Dad. Today is the day.”
He’s all packed up. I did that the day before. We take extra Depends as he’s moved in that direction now. He’s got teeth in, hearing aids too and a baseball cap.
“Jen, it’s complicated when you have to have all these gadgets just to get up and out.”
“I get it Dad!”
We turn the corner to pick up 3 1/2-year-old Carmen, my granddaughter, a few blocks away. Today we are going from Baltimore to Cape Cod where we will stay with family, several cool teenage girls as well as my welcoming aunt and uncle.
This is my granddaughter Carmen’s first time away from Mom for a few days. Since she’s with me a lot, it’s no big deal. Mom prepared her and so have I. “We are going to the ocean,” I say looking right at her.
“Yeah!” she exclaims.
“And we will see the kids,” I add.
“Yeah!” She says again.
I’m well prepared for this trip. I have several boxes of Band-Aids, some plain, some with colors and faces. Carmen focuses on unwrapping and putting them on her fingers, good for almost 45 minutes. Then I have animal crackers, a tray to put them on, other dolls and snacks. She climbs in and she buckles herself, mostly, into her seat. I help with the last click.
I have at least eight hours of driving before me.” Oh my!” I say to myself. “What was I thinking?” I shrug and chuckle to myself. It will be an adventure in any case.
We are about to take our first break, and I notice Dad is squirming a little in his seat. As we get out, he says, “Too late.” Good thing he wears Depends. Quick on my feet, I grab an extra one and look for a family bathroom. We are lucky—no one is in there. Even better, there is a regular toilet and as Carmen exclaims, “There’s a tiny potty Grandma!” Luckily, she can handle herself and is focused while I help Dad. He looks up at me and says, “Well Jen, I did it for you and now you get to help me!” “Right,” I say, grateful for his good humor. We all wash our hands, get a snack and head back to the car.
Back on the road I can see her head bobbing onto her chest. Yes! She’s asleep. Now I can focus totally for 2 hours and get as far as possible past New York City. Dad nods off too, his head drooping to the side. I savor the quiet with both asleep. It reminds me how much I love solo car trips. There is space to reflect and daydream while the scenes change.
When we are half an hour from our destination, Dad gazes out the window at the scrubby trees near Cape Cod. He looks at me and says, “You know, I never get tired of riding in a car. I don’t even care if we ever get there.” I smile as I feel the tiredness around my eyes and stiff legs. That comment makes it all worthwhile. We see the bridge up ahead and a glimpse of water. Carmen sits up in her seat, “Look, Grandma! Look, Grandpa Jerry! Boats!”
The teenage girls in Woods Hole, though not saying much, look at Carmen with sparkling eyes. My little one, at 3 ½ looks down and shuffles her feet. But in no time at all I see that she sits between them and laughs as they bring out toys to play with. We got right into the rhythm of the place and have a lively visit.
A few days later we climb in the car to head home. I love driving south at the end of the trip along the West Side Highway past New York City. I recall my grandparents, my Mom and our family going to New York to visit. Carmen wakes up right when the Hudson River slips into view with the George Washington Bridge behind. Her eyes pop open and she squeals with delight. “It’s the bridge, Grandma, and the water.” And then she goes on, “I am so happy, Grandma. Mommy is happy, Grandma is happy, Grandpa Jerry is happy….” She names a few more people. “And the cars are happy. The people are happy.” Her big brown eyes gleam.
Old people and children live in an eternal present. Sometimes adults can catch a ride with them. These two were a good pair for a road trip. I was fortunate in that.
Bio-Fragment: Jennifer Downs came of age in the tumultuous “baby boom” after World War II. Many in her generation challenged the status quo and initiated movements questioning long-standing assumptions about race, gender, food, war, and peace. Now in her early '70s, Downs is again challenging common perceptions. Instead of sinking into the faded recliners of "old age," Downs demostrate that our elder years are when we should rise to the occasion and embrace inner challenges even as we also pause, reflect and contemplate. She pulls from her multifaceted training in both western and eastern medicine to empower elders how to savor their new perspectives on life, a process she is currently immersed in herself.