People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)


I was a lucky kid. My grandmother lived with us during the winters while I grew up; during the summers she ran two boarding houses at Hampton Beach, New Hampshire. As a result, I loved the summer when I was a child. I was able to visit with her and spend my days playing in the sand, riding the surf, and trying to avoid being sun burnt. She always had more than a few "characters" staying at one of the houses and I enjoyed observing folks and watching them from a distance. Both of the boarding houses were old and had dusty attics, dark, mysterious basements, and often empty rooms to explore. On rainy days we would explore the houses. (If memory serves, my grandmother approved of our rummaging around in the attics and basements). When we were not on the beach or exploring the houses, my brothers and I would often escape to the arcades and play skee-ball or pinball. Sometimes we had allowance money to spend on souvenirs. At night the fireworks would be set off over the ocean and we could sit with our parents, in the cool sand, eating ice cream as we watched the explosions of color reflect on the water. The summers were fun, but so were the winters.

I loved having Grannie there when I came home from school. She would always greet us with a smile and often had some funny story to share with us as we got our homework out and enjoyed our afternoon snack. My grandmother was a lot of fun. She would tell me secrets about the mischief she took part in when she was my age. I'm sure my mother would have had a conniption fit if she had any notion what-so-ever of the secrets that Grannie shared with me. She would probably go ballistic if she knew that Grannie hand planted the seeds for the ideas which had gotten me in the most trouble when I was a kid. I remember my grandmother as funny, lively, and ready for anything. I had a mom, who at that time, was pretty concerned about appearances. I really believe that I would not be a light hearted today if my grandmother hadn't lived with us when I was a kid.

After watching the documentary "Young at Heart", I've been thinking about aging and about how our culture treats aging. Not only do we dismiss and devalue the aging, but we are most comfortable when they are out of sight. Unlike my generation, today's families tend to rely on two incomes and as a result, are not able to care for aging parents and grandparents. I was lucky to grow up in a three generation household. I with my daughter could be as lucky also.

I also realized that while the members of the Young at Heart Chorus(http://www.youngatheartchorus.com/) may be chronologically old, they are most certainly youthful in spirit. My grandmother was youthful as well. When my twin bother and sister were born, my grandmother danced a jig in the middle of the street and passed out candy cigars to the neighbors to let them know that my mom had delivered "one of each - a sure sign of good luck". She would tell you what was on her mind, and wasn't afraid to disagree with anyone (even our parish priest - something that was just not "done" in those days). Grannie would express what was in her heart or on her mind, and no one intimidated her.

I believe it was her youthful approach to life, her zest for living which allowed her to live as long as she did. She lived to be 92. While she had begun to suffer from dementia in the last two years of her life, the first 90 were vibrant years. I remember being shocked as a child once when she had told me her age. She said "it's just a number sweetie, you can be as young or as old as you let yourself". I didn't know what she meant then, but I am starting to "get" it now. She lived a youthful existence for her entire life and certainly "died before (she) got old". I hope I do too.