Stephanie Says.. Take a walk inside my head

Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and imagine what you’ll be telling your children and grandchildren about younger you….younger you, of course, being the you looking at yourself in the mirror?

I do, but then again, I’ve been known to tell myself stories in the shower, so perhaps I’m not the best judge of what is normal.  Normality aside, however, think about it a second.  Will you still be in Williamsburg or Australia or Columbia or wherever it is you are now?  Will you describe yourself as funny or outgoing or brave?  Or will you just be another white haired old person telling “In my day” stories?

I think my first experience with this was not with a child, but with a class.  About a million years ago now, the kids at church who are currently college sophomores and seniors were squirmy eleven year olds halfway paying attention in Sunday School.  Their teacher was me.  I’ve grown some since then and discovered that my comfort zone is preschoolers, not adolescents, but, nevertheless, there I was, all of twenty five, feeling very out of place.

And then, for some reason that I’m sure fit the context at the time, I brought up Tammy Fay Baker.  I had been a teenager only a decade before.  I didn’t realize how quickly things change.  My class looked at me like I was from Mars.  They had never -heard- of Tammy Fay Baker and I was at a loss to explain who she was.

What do you think?  Do you think in like 2030 or 2040 we’ll mention -Gilmore Girls- or -Law and Order- the way -Dragnet- or -Father Knows Best- is talked about today and get a blank look?  Do you think we’ll say “I used to be a pretty good singer” or “Boy, I sure could pitch that ball” and have our children give us an indulgent smile on their way out to their personal airbourne device?

Or do you think we’ll have learned to listen by then, the way my cousins and I do at Family Reunion time?  We never met the original Poppaw Hall, but we can tell you stories about him.  My younger cousins weren’t even born when -our- grandfather died, but they sure as shooting know who he was.

It would be nice, don’t you think, if that is the way the future of our families turned out to be.  I’m not into lines on a family tree the way some people are.  I can’t give you anyone’s birth and death dates.  But it would be nice, very nice, if we all remembered the names.  And the stories.