Tell us a Story, Win Concert Tickets – The Elderly Project

8 Responses to “Tell us a Story, Win Concert Tickets – The Elderly Project”

1. Laura Roberts said:
   

   I used to work for a great older woman here in Montreal. She’s a self-published writer with lots of moxie, with lots of great stories to tell, as well as an open mind about what the young people are up to these days. She was always very supportive of my writing and encouraged me never to give up, even when I felt like I was stuck with my fiction or didn’t have enough time to work on my own projects in between all my paid gigs. She is a great inspiration, as she has always published her own writing, knowing that it had worth even if the powers-that-be here in Canada didn’t seem to think so, and I should definitely send her a note to thank her. Thank YOU, Indyish, for reminding us all to stop and think about those older and wiser that we ought to thank while we still can!

   
   Posted on August 9th, 2009 at 10:20 pm [permalink]
2. Rachel Crummey said:
   

   My grandmothers were both amazing women- I feel really lucky to have had them in my life. Granny C held me on her knee, taught me how to properly lay a table, make butterscotch cookies, and keep a twinkle in my eye. She made perfect meringues and always invited people to our christmas table who she thought might be lonely. She was always dignified, gentle, and strong. Grandma B loved to hear about the boys in my life, and taught me to be a card shark. She could talk to anyone and connect instantly. She loved chocolate so much she had a stash hidden away at any given moment. She gave me the best chocolate fudge sundae recipe known to humankind. But of course, in the end what both my grandmothers did was give me unqualified love and support, and the wisdom of their years.

   
   Posted on August 10th, 2009 at 10:16 am [permalink]
3. Taylor Tower said:
   

   My grandma moved in with us, my little brother and I, when we were kids to help out since my mom went to school during the day and worked at night. My two cousins were the same age and my grandma would dedicate entire days to entertaining us – taking us to every park in town, the beach, the river, the amusement park, endless kid movies, picnics, arts and crafts fairs, anything. She would sit for hours on a park bench, reading or dozing off, as my brother and cousins and I roller-skated, climbed trees and forged timeless bonds and invaluable memories. I have a thousand favorite memories of these outings but one that really stands out is when my grandma (who we all called “Nan” – I actually thought that was her name until I was nearly 12 years old) took us to a public pool. She dropped us off and when the swim was over and we came out to meet her, we saw she had gotten a buzz cut. A total army-style buzz cut. In Portland, Oregon, where I’m from, there’s a local furniture store owned by a dude named Tom Peterson. His whole gimmick is that he’s a down home guy and part of his marketing technique is to have a “free hair cut and hotdog” day. Nan was never one to turn down something free, so she got a buzz cut despite the fact that it was totally hideous. Yet, somehow, it worked on her. She looked pretty badass.

   
   Posted on August 10th, 2009 at 4:24 pm [permalink]
4. Risa Dickens said:
   

   these are beautiful, thank you Rachel and Laura.

   I made friends with an elderly gentleman from Trinidad a few years back, and he’s one of the many people who came to mind for me when I thought about elderly folks I’ve loved. He had been injured badly in a factory accident just a little while before he was due to retire and was being harrassed by his former boss, and it tormented him but somehow he managed to stay really positive and focused. He would repeat things he knew: “I am honest. I worked hard for 20 years and they hired me to teach others and I did a good job. I am good person.” He had faith that things would work out. He would go to all these different temples and churches, Buddhist, Hindu, Christian, to volunteer and keep himself busy, all the while working odd jobs that he could manage with his injury and meditating on how to heal. After about a year and a half of this he called to tell me his former boss had died of a heart attack. A little while later and he was almost entirely healed. He knows more, I think, about how the world works then I will ever know and I’m so thankful I got to meet him on the bus that day.. =)

   
   Posted on August 11th, 2009 at 9:10 am [permalink]
5. Ian Cuthbertson said:
   

   My great grandfather, Leo Zelikowski, is 99 years old and the most remarkable man I have ever met. He still walks every day, his small frame shuffling down the street in a shirt, tie and jacket. As a child, I remember noticing and wondering about the six blue numbers (174565) tattooed on my great grandfather’s arm. They were put there at Auschwitz in 1944. But what amazes me most about my great grandfather is not the incredible determination and strength that he possesses and which helped him to survive the horrors of the holocaust; instead I am awestruck by his bright sense of humour and his deep ability to love. I can remember performing ‘experiments’ with him in my grandmother’s kitchen as a child: we would usher the entire family outside (to ensure their safety) and then carefully drop one of his denture tablets into a glass of water and watch the ensuing explosion and laugh. He is a master of witty remarks and I often find myself trying in vain to think of a clever comeback to one of his quips only to have him make yet another joke while I fumble awkwardly for words! But while my life with this man has been made up of moments like these, it is his constant, warm and caring playfulness and presence that I value most. I love him more than I can say.

   
   Posted on August 14th, 2009 at 1:40 pm [permalink]
6. J-S said:
   

   In the 40′s, my grandmother played drums in all women big band in Montreal. From what I was told, she was pretty bad-ass. Every St-Patrick’s, we would go to her apartment and drink green beer and eat food. There was a pool and we would swim. When she died, my little cousin Alison got up on the pews and yelled: well, that’s it fro gramma!

   
   Posted on August 24th, 2009 at 9:45 pm [permalink]
7. Birdee said:
   

   I worked at a local gas station for two years of my teenhood. The job did have its perks, it wasn’t all too busy so I could get a lot of reading done and my fellow co workers and I would try to find interesting ways to pass the time. We could play hackey sack or catch on the lot during the summer, and I could eat as many free chocolate bars as my little heart desired. But unfortunately, often times the customers would be the downside. Though most people were just those mediocre, friendly-ish types that leave little to no impact on you, some would go out of their way to make your life a living hell for the 5 minutes you interact them with. I’m sure anyone who has ever had to deal with the general public understands this.

   But when thinking of the elderly people who have come into my life, the one that stands out the most is this man who would come in semi-regularly. His name was Gladwyn (which rules) and he took to coming in to the store to buy a newspaper on his way to the local coffee shop. I would say he was about 75 but still in really good shape and in such good spirits. Though our conversations were pretty brief you just got this air of self satisfaction from him. Many of the elderly I have met, I can feel the bitterness and anger coming from them that has built up over the years, meeting with the unfairness of getting old and often times, losing physical abilities or even health. Gladwyn though was different. It was nice to meet a man who you could tell had had a good life and didn’t resent getting old. He was kind and just gave off such a good energy!

   I don’t know where he is now though I hope to god he is still alive and still spreading his cheer to everyone he meets.

   
   Posted on August 25th, 2009 at 12:36 pm [permalink]
8. Risa Dickens said:
   

   Thank you for all these amazing stories. Everyone who commented will be on the guestlist tonight and should receive an email from the good people at the Elderly Project.

   This contest is now closed, but we are always accepting stories: submit {at} indyish.com.

   
   Posted on August 25th, 2009 at 1:38 pm [permalink]

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