My South Carolinan aunt and uncle stopped by my condo earlier today because they happened to be driving by. They had not yet seen the place, so they appropriately “oooooh-ed” and “aaaaah-ed” as I took them from room to room. I had a snack set out on the platter I was thrilled to salvage from my Grandmother’s house - the same plate my aunt deemed “ugly”. She was tickled to see it in use.
We chit-chatted about life, work this, plans for condo improvements that, laughing along the way. It got to be time for them to move on to my parents house and we hugged mulitple times as they walked to the door. “I guess I will see you soon,” I say. At this point Janelle’s eyes begin to water. At my grandmother’s doctor’s requests, my uncle and aunt were on their way to upper Michigan to be with my grandmother in her final hours.
In a way, my grandmother’s passing will be a graduation. My parents will become the eldest generation and my nieces and nephews will move into the role of the third generation - not be much differenct than their current role. The second generation, however, is the generation with the responsibility. It is that generation’s job to carefully watch the first generation for any signs of weakness. Forgetfulness and fatigue will set in as we slowly commandeer family responsibilities away from them. Problems that used to be solved behind closed doors will now not only require our attendance but our vote. It will now be our job to spend the day in the kitchen, making sure people are fed at a time close to normal. We will be figuring out the sleeping arrangements and making sure everyone has clean towels. All these are in preparation for the major decisions concerning our parents we will have to face in the future.
I like being the third generation. There is a certain security in not having that much responsibility. A blissful ignorance of death being a far away thing, instead of something that is steadily approaching. I have never felt more like an adult than I do now.