My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-seven now, and we don't know where the heck she is.
The very old and the very young have something in common that makes it right that they should be left alone together. Dawn and sunset see stars shining in a blue sky; but morning and midday and afternoon do not, poor things.
When she smiles, the lines in her face become epic narratives that trace the stories of generations that no book can replace.
Life is a process during which one initially gets less and less dependent, independent, and then more and more dependent.
We envy people who are extremely old because we wish to live that long, not because we want to be that old.
The best baby-sitters, of course, are the baby’s grandparents. You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods, which is why most grandparents flee to Florida.
I’m not trying to—What do teenagers say nowadays?” he asked my grandmother.“Get all up in her biznez,” Nana said.Without cracking a smile.“That’s right,” he replied. “We’re not trying to get all up in your biznez, Ali.
People have often told me that one of their strongest childhood memories is the scent of their grandmother's house. I never knew my grandmothers, but I could always count of the Bookmobile.
To the loyal and to the blood-lovers, in the good families and in the fiery dynasties, life is family and family is life. It is the same people who give advice and their vices to live well who turn out to be the ones who give resource and reason to live long.
The only reason that some people aren’t ashamed of their parents and/or siblings is because they know that we know that they did not choose them.
The cactus thrives in the desert while the fern thrives in the wetland.The fool will try to plant them in the same flowerbox.The florist will sigh and add a wall divider and proper soil to both sides.The grandparent will move the flowerbox halfway out of the sun.The child will turn it around properly so that the fern is in the shade, and not the cactus.The moral of the story?Kids are smart.
It’s no secret that kids thrive when they have meaningful conversations with caring adults. But in our busy world, it’s not easy to find ways to make this happen, so I developed READ TOGETHER/DO TOGETHER™ to help parents and grandparents create those magic moments.
Did they love me? The question is beside the point, somehow. Certainly they each spoiled me, mainly by giving me the false impression that I was entitled to attention nearly all the the time. They played. THEY were like children, if you consider that one of the things about being a child is that you are a parasite of sorts and have to brazen out self-righteously. I want. They were good at wanting and I shared much more common ground with them than with my mother when I was three or four years old.
She loved them so much that she felt a kind of hollowness on the inner surface of her arms whenever she looked at them- an ache of longing to pull them close and hold them tight against her.
Kids are hard -they drive you crazy and break your heart- whereas grandchildren make you feel great about life, and yourself, and your ability to love someone unconditionally, finally, after all these years.
History has shown us time and time again that you don't have to know someone to love them with all your heart.
As a subconscious attempt to add meaning or purpose to their life: The unemployed pray for a job, the retired pray for grandchildren.
I never learned to say shit before a lady. I don't believe in progress in quite the way you seem to. You believe in it more than Grandmother did. As for those purely cultural patterns of convention you think I ought to escape from, they happen to add up to civilization, and I'd rather be civilized than tribal or uncouth.
My parents and grandparents did not tolerate idle thoughts or behavior. If the action did not have a purpose or lead you in a positive direction, their feeling was “why bother?” This is how I was built. This is why I refuse to fail.
Plus I have no doubt that their garden is also where my grandparents dreamed—for a better life of equality for their grandchildren and future generations. As people rooted in their faith, they probably did a lot of praying here as well, that God would deliver us all to prosperity and peace beyond this plot of land.
The strength of human instinct seems to be quite overrated as it is so feeble it requires a lifetime of guidance, education, training and practical experience to develop. More critically, without conscious and diligent effort across one generation to pass its knowledge on to the next generation, all that was gained will be lost, forewarned by an increasing rarity of the reminiscence, “Every secret of life I know, I learned at my grandfather’s knee.
If we're to be judged by our parents and grandparents, then we all may as well impale ourselves upon bits of rock.
The foundation that my parents and grandparents instilled in me is unyielding, especially the principle that teaches me to keep God first in all I do.
A Grandmother thinks of her grandchildren day and night, even when they are not with her.She will always love them more than anyone would understand.
Maybe that is the greatest of wonders: that we can be shaped so much by those we've known closely, and equally by those we've never known at all - and that we too can change the world long after we've left it.
...no matter how frequently we came, when we arrived, they acted as if we had been away one hundred years. [His grandparents' greeting.]
At NBC I wasn't really sure if the grandparents were going to get my sense of humor on a particular topic.
I grew up in a reform Jewish family in St. Louis. Our idea of Judaism was no bar mitzvahs and a Christmas tree that had a skirt at the bottom embroidered with the names of my grandparents.
Maybe there is no actual place called hell. Maybe hell is just having to listen to our grandparents breathe through their noses when they're eating sandwiches.
When I visit any cathedral, it reminds me of being with my grandparents. They weren't particularly religious, but my grandfather was obsessed with architecture.
My grandparents - my mom's parents - they're Jewish. But nobody ever pushed religion onto us. It wasn't something I ever grew up with.
When I was seven or eight years old, I began to read the science-fiction magazines that were brought by guests into my grandparents' boarding house in Waukegan, Illinois. Those were the years when Hugo Gernsback was publishing 'Amazing Stories,' with vivid, appallingly imaginative cover paintings that fed my hungry imagination.
My mom, you know, took off when I was about 6. What ended up happening is I ended up being with my grandparents.