Sunday, 4 October 2026

Nostalgia, part two. Well, sort of.

 


I have just finished reading an article discussing the very different childhoods of those of us born in the 1940’s and 1950’s to those born and raised when internet and cell phones were common. How we communicated then and how children are managed now incorporates a huge change. Google. Wikipedia. My daughter talks to her phone. Navigating in a car or boat. I could make this list much longer.

Childhood, both for me and for my daughters, was very different from how my granddaughter grew up. We lived in a neighbourhood where most houses had children our age. Something like a 'playdate' would have been met with laughter. We got information from books. My daughters’ treat was a visit to a bookstore with money in hand. In my mind, the big world change happened when my adult daughter and her husband set me up with internet access in 1995. This same daughter had taken a graduate degree in England, had met the husband there and we had planned the wedding through a series (a long and detailed series) of letters posted back and forth across the Atlantic. The other daughter was working in Africa and communicating by letter or telephone. Five years later I had daily access to both of them through email. Now I have virtual meeting with visual and voice. And a steady arrival of photos on my phone, keeping me current with the growth of the step great-grandchild. One of my neighbours read bedtime stories nightly to grandkids in Washington State. Different, for sure.

We are not the first generation to be pulled through into a differently managed world. I recall with amusement my grandmother’s fascination with the stretchy suits (with snap fasteners) my babies wore. She described the pinned wool wrappers that she had used to keep her babies warm, and it did sound dire. Her generation went from horse and buggy to automobile and encountered television. My mother was, I think, twenty-five when my grandparents got electricity, a very late adaptation as they lived on a working farm. My granddaughter had disposable diapers and a voice pickup beside her crib. My daughters had flannelette diapers that were pinned on and washed and dried by the me. But, I did have a programmable washer and drier to use.

I grew up playing chess and checkers and card games. I grew up reading as we did not get a television until I was, I think, thirteen. I grew up with the threat of polio, with almost universal child illnesses of measles, mumps and chicken pox. The vaccines for measles and mumps were available for my children, as was polio vaccine. My children grew up with television and games like Scrabble and Monopoly as well as cards. My step-grandsons grew up with video games.

The article that I read was a discussion of a single serious change. I have been hopping around here and I hope you can follow me at least a bit.

The point I am groping for here is, I think, reasonable. It is this: that, for each person, most change, even a large, a quantum change, is simply accepted and used. In my grandmother’s youth, she travelled by horse and buggy. But as an older adult she did not think of a car ride as anything unusual. Yet something that was as routine for me as a stretchy baby suit was a surprise for her.  For my father, the switch from looking things up in a card file to looking them up on line was extremely difficult. He was not a ten-fingered typist and found using a keyboard slow and frustrating, but was quickly informed by card. My daughters’ and granddaughter’s use of phones for information is simply routine but they still read for pleasure. But, perhaps, for each person there is a change that matters, is meaningful or, sadly, brings loss.

I read. I have a lot of books on bookshelves, more on my iPad, more on e-readers. I do love being able to order a book on line and have it the same day or hour. I recall my days of lugging a pile of books in to the library and lugging a new pile home. Life is different, for sure. For the first  half of my life I wrote letters home at least once a week. And even after internet I continued to do that for my mother.  Who phoned me every Sunday night from the city where they lived. This lasted even after they moved to live close to us. My mother was completely uninterested in computers in any form. 

I have never been able to pin down 'changes' for my mother. Except for polio vaccine. After that was available, I was not sent to stay with my grandparents in the summers when it menaced us all, but children most.

11 comments:

  1. Sigh... Yes. Times have really changed. I couldn't call home to talk to my mom very often when we first moved to Illinois in 1974. However, my daughter calls about 4 times a week now and we don't have to worry about the cost. We also text with our son in Nairobi constantly. But is it all good? AI is making me nervous these days.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I agree, the way the internet is going these days is scary. The ease of communication we have now is really good for me, even if my wandering daughters have settled in the same phone area as mine. Finally. But. I used to love getting letters, and I don't get them any more.

      Delete
  2. I am fascinated by the 'olden days', which in my mind even include the childhood of my parents. It was SO different that what I experienced.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Kathy, I would not like to have had to raise my daughters in a farmhouse heated by a coal stove. My mother and her sisters were wrapped in 'pinnies' as infants and wore, wait for it, shoes that buttoned up. Different? A lot more work than we had to put in.

      Delete
  3. You have captured it all perfectly. Our lives have been similar in that way. I see that we both got online in the same year. I remeber sitting down with my principal and declaring that as one of my goals. Before officially getting on the WWW, teachers briefly had the Electronic Village in which to communicate. That didn’t survive long as the WWW took hold. I adapted to computers well before that and remember getting a modem into which I cradled the phone to try to access a bulletin board. And so on and so forth. Thanks for the memory jog.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My first computer was a 'Kaypro' that ran on two floppy discs and blew its little brain if there was a power surge. I kept a pile of operating discs handy. Your comment made me think of the howl of the modem. Glad those days are gone.

      Delete
  4. I absolutely adored the card catalog in both my local library and at school. I still want one to use as a piece of furniture (where I would put it is anyone's guess). When I first started teaching high school English, my research paper project required use of the card catalog; there was no alternative early on. Later, the library had a periodicals index on a computer terminal, but the periodicals were paper copies.

    I love the ease of communication now via email, text, and video calling. Writing actual letters is still a thing for me; I think it shows a real thoughtfulness and effort. Even the occasional postcard is still quite pleasant. Stationery and stamps convey more gravitas, more sincerity.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I grew up with card catalogues; my mother ran a series of companies out of a second floor office in our home. Both my parents were rapid searchers. I was not. Yes, the whole communication part of life is different but I miss letters. I write them and send cards and my family replies on line. Love them anyway. Hmm. Maybe we should start a letter club.

      Delete
  5. This reminds me of the (likely) hundreds of letters my grandmother and I wrote to each other until 2019. She was born in 1923. I wish I still had more than a few. Sigh.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I have a lot saved, but keeping this stuff means storing it.

      Delete
  6. Our generation has a foot in both worlds.

    ReplyDelete

The End of September Report

At one end of our galley kitchen is a small table, sited in the outside corner and faced, on two sides, by large windows. As we take our mea...