Generational challenge

Question

This is an exercise in empathy, in prose or poetry.  If you are young, write something from  the perspective of a very old person.  If you are old, write something from the perspective of a young person living in today's world.  If you are "stuck in the middle" take an imaginative leap either direction.  

Base your work on someone you know or have known, if possible.   Funny is OK, serious is OK.

Length doesn't matter.  Insight is important.  A "best" will be named on April 15th.

An afterthought:  In my oldness, I notice that when I talk with people in their middle years, they are so deeply engaged with the world that one must relate with them almost 100% through their "identity" or responsibility-role.  But with many old folks and almost all children, a big part of them is free to play and just BE outside of their social identity.  In that sense I find them enjoyable in the same way I enjoy the company of animals.  They leave me feeling refreshed.

Comments

GREAT idea! I relly want to do it but I type way to slow...
Like it took me 15 minutes to type allof this....

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Thanks, lilymuffin.    And welcome.  Love your name :-)       A haiku length poem would be just fine.

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Very interesting challenge annierosie.  I see I have a lot of writing to do.  You and Saxon are killing me! :)

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What is a haiku poem? And thank you-my real name is audrey!
I was named after my grandma-

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A haiku-type poem is essentially a very short poem that creates an image (often from nature), and then sparks that image in an interesting way, a kind of surprise which widens one's understanding, by using an unexpected word or second image.  You can look it up on Wikipedia to see the more formal rules, and some examples.  A lot of people relax the rules and just go for the spark.
    Is there a reason you type slow? -- that could fit into the challenge if you want .  .

Answer 1

I slowly sat down on my beloved chair that my husband gave me a week before his death. I still cringed when people talked about it. All that is left is me,(Anna) and Cutie. My husband,(Gulp) named the dog after me.

Then I hear a car drive up. Dan and Ella were here. I loved my six year old grandchildren more than anything in the world. The door creaked open. "Grandma?" asked Ella. " Right here!" I shouted. Ella nd Jon ran over and gave me a big hug.

It was sad when Jon and Ella left. I wonder what will happen when they grow up and go to college. Will I ever see their kids?

Answer 2

Nothing Special

The jagged green line danced in an annoingly repetitive motion. He lay unmoving in the hospital bed, listening to the room full of relatives morn. Every now and then he wanted to sit up and say I'm not dead yet, but he enjoyed the loss the subsequent generations of his family were going through.

His grandaughter had been crying quietly in the corner for hours, His son was attempting to comfort her by talking about good times. He repeated stories his dying father couldn't remember, but sounded like something he would do.

His daughters had just finished saying a prayer and now the three of them were sitting silently mulling over all the ways thir fathers loss would affect their lives.

"He's done so much with his life, If this is really the end his life hasn't been wasted" Michael told his inconcolible daughter.

This changed the pattern switched the green line to a tango, ended the simple waltz. The dying man began to mull over his life. What were his acomplishments? What impact did I have? How did he change anything for the better? Worse?

Under the power of his morphine restricted 83 year old brain he could not pull up one specific event. He had no day, month, year, era of his life that he could say was the best or worst. As he saw It there was no story worth telling in his past. He was average, normal, boring. He was nothing special.

Then the stories continued, and he remembered why he matterd, it was his last action before he left.

Answer 3

 

“Twenty-three,” I giggled and covered my mouth. They always ask that first like they don't want to get too deep right away. Now I do the sign for 23 and they giggle. “Oh, she knows sign.” Wow, I'm a marvel to them. I can say my age and I can sign it. I know they think I'm stupid but I'm not. They are 'cause they don't know what retarded means. Ugh, I hate that word so much. People say it like I'm sick or catching or something. I'm slow but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. And that's a bad word that I can't say without saying sorry if it slips out when somebody does something really dumb. “Stupid! Oh, ah, oh. Sorry.” And then my face gets all hot and I have to look away or pull my hat down lower. Words. It was easier when I didn't talk as much.

Yeah, I'm 23 and I'll be 24 on my next birthday. I am not a little girl anymore. I'm a woman and I really act like a woman now. Just like Marla. Marla is my twin sister who is 45. We're not really twins, but she has long hair like I do and she wears baseball hats like I do; she knows sign language like I do and she does ceramics like I do. We both like movies, so that's why I call her twin sister. We are so much alike.

Marla is my friend who helps me with things that can get a little difficult for me. Like if I want to buy something at the store. Yesterday I had to buy Always and I had 10 dollars but the Always wasn't that much and Marla stood next to me when I paid and told me to wait for my change. See, she's my twin sister who is my helper, too. Mom says Marla is my aide when she talks to someone so I guess aide means twin sister helper. Nora has Jean but they aren't twin sisters so Nora just says Jean is her helper.

I'm luckier to have a twin sister helper. I mean in my house Marla and I are the only girls, oh, and Mom, too. I have four brothers who are old in their thirties. (Tick tick tick... that's what I say to Andy who's going to have a birthday on Friday. I do it to everyone). My Dad is a boy. I mean a man. He doesn't like it when I say that. Jonathon does. He likes it when I say he's my boyfriend. And he is. He kisses me on the cheek. Maybe when I get to be 24 on my birthday he will kiss me on the lips and then he will be my man friend. See, I'm not stupid. I know what that kind of kiss means...that he knows I'm a woman and he's a man.

Answer 4

Just for fun I will try one myself .  .  

I scootch down to the bottom of my bed so my head is in the middle. That is my best safe place.  I can hear Justin and Brad fighting about the Wii.  They get to stay up an hour later and that's not fair.  Mommy won't let me bring my pink Gameboy to bed even if it makes me not so scared.  She says it's a stage and I will grow out of it.  She says she isn't afraid to let her hand go over the edge of the bed because she knows there is nothing under the bed.  Grownups are afraid of other things, that's what she says.  What are grownups scared of ?  

Babies suck their thumbs and I won't do that even if it is a good sleepy feeling.  The bad thing under the bed, sometimes I hear it breathing when I am getting sleepy and that makes me wake up.  I never wet the bed anymore so I am getting bigger. I try to be good so Mommy will think I'm the best.  Sometimes Justin hits me.

My toe is too close to the end of the bed but the wood makes it safe.  Maybe.  Maybe the bad thing can get through the crack. I yell to Mommy I want a drink of water.

The light gets bigger and someone is coming in.  It's Gran, she's staying with us for a week  in the empty bedroom.  She sits on the bed by me and puts her hand on my cheek.  Old people have soft hands.

"Honey, are you having trouble going to sleep?"  

         "Yes, I'm afraid."

"What is it you are afraid of?"

          "There's something under the bed.  Mommy says there isn't but there is."

"Well, let me have a look"  Gran gets down on the floor and looks under my bed.  

"Oh yes.  I see it.  WOW.  It's there all right."

            "It IS ?   What is it ?"

"It's a LION.  A big, BIG golden lion with beautiful eyes. Very strong.  He stays there every night to protect you so no bad thing can bother you while you sleep. I had one when I was a little girl and I felt very lucky."

            "A lion.  It's really real.  It's a lion."

"Good night, sweetie."  Gran kisses me on my forehead  and goes out. The dark comes  back in the room.  

I think about my big lion under there with big teeth and his yellow eyes open and watching.  His breathing makes me feel safe.  I feel good.  I am getting sleepy and I wonder if I will have good dreams.

Comments

that is REALLY good!

Answer 5

Oh to be young again!

To tiptoe barefooted through clovers, trying to avoid the honeybees

To mix together 5 flavors of Kool Aid and see what color the resulting mixture is

Ooh! And to come up with a name for the flavor it produces...gracherryberrypunch??

Or how about ummm....mamasgonnawhipmeforwasting?

Well anyway, Mom would probably just put me in the corner

where my covert crayon might reappear and create another Van Gogh

although, thanks to new paint, my last one is Van Goghn.

Van Gogh only had one ear right? I've been accused of only using one!

But as a youngster, selective listening is a must have. Don't believe me? Imagine listening to your Mom singing Elvis, your sister singing New Kids on the Block, your brother playing Super Mario Brothers, and your dad mimicking a chain saw and weather siren with his snoring. Imagine hearing all that at once.

But I'm an old man now, going soon to meet my maker. My hearing is gone, and so is my mother who sang and father who snored.

And this bed that I lie upon in this nursing home feels like a hundred of those honeybees jabbing in my back.

But I can think of one thing that my current state has in common with those grand old days as a child.....I'll tell you later, hear comes a lady with some applesauce....and a diaper.

Answer 6

Things are different now, I suppose

The passage of time marked not by the passing of hours,

But the passing of friends.

 

Seems to me, people are a little too quick

To get where they’re going.

Slow down. The fun is in the “getting”, not in the “there”.

 

Sometimes I think it’s the little things

That make it all worthwhile; a child’s laughter

On a sunny afternoon, the crackle of logs in an open fire.

 

I think I’ll rest my eyes a while,

Memories are warm, soft like a lover’s embrace

A whisper, a promise.

 

You swim into view, and I smile.

The fun is in getting there Ellie,

And I’m getting there.

Answer 7

--Challenge Withdrawn--

Answer 8

Where are you, Granny? I woke up and went to the kitchen, to sit on your lap and sip our coffee, and you weren't there. Where are you?

I looked in the garden, and in your big bed where we sit sometimes, but you weren't there.

Lots of people came, aunts and uncles and people I don't know. Someone told me you live with Jesus now. We went in cars to a big house, and I saw you sleeping in a little bed. I looked all over for Jesus, but did not find him. I don't like him.

Why did you go live with Jesus, Granny? I want you to live with me.