You Don't Say...
Stories from the Drew Zagorski Files - Some stories are just worth telling... In You Don't Say, you'll get a mix of documentary, commentary, history - straight and sometimes with a twist, and well, just great stories - single episode and serial stories to help you escape the real world. There's a little something here for everyone. You Don't Say... (youdontsay.net) is a production of LeftBrainRightBrain Marketing (lbrbm.com).
You Don't Say...
The 91-Year-Old’s Real Work: Keeping A Family Alive
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For my mom’s 91st birthday, I wanted to give her an answer to a question she’s asked me more than once: Why am I still here, and what’s my job supposed to be now? So I took the matter up with God—and, following a lightning bolt to my driveway, received an official Position Description for a 91-year-old mom, gramma, and great-gramma. What follows is my gift to Ma: part satire, part love letter, and an attempt to put into words why simply being here may be one of the most important jobs our elders have left to do.
Because they are the keepers of our family histories, the voices that connect us to people and places we never knew, and the living bridge between generations. They remind us where we came from, give us the perspective only a lifetime can provide, and—after decades spent caring for everyone else—face one final assignment that may be among the hardest: allowing us to care for and love them in return. This one is for my mom on her 91st birthday, but it’s also for every mom, dad, gramma, grandpa, and elder who has ever wondered whether they still have a purpose—and for those of us who know exactly how much their presence still means.
© Drew Zagorski. All rights reserved.
Published under the pen name Drew Glass.
The Make Right Man: A Chicago Reckoning is a work of fiction and part of You Don’t Say… Stories from the Drew Zagorski Files, produced by LeftBrainRightBrain Studios.
A Question That Won’t Quit
SPEAKER_00Welcome to a very special edition of You Don't Stay for a Vercial Person. The title for this episode is My Ma Asked Too Many Times, so I prayed to God about it, and she sent the lightning bolt into my driveway with the job description for a 91-year-old mom, grandma, and great grandma. So I copied it here. My Ma has a question. She's asked it more than once, quite a few times actually. The question is this why God keeps me around here this long? I don't know. What's my job supposed to be at this point? This year she's celebrating her 91st birthday, so I suppose she figures God had ample opportunity to explain herself. Apparently, God got tired of hearing about it too, because the other night, after another rendition of Why Am I Still Here, I decided to take the matter upstairs. Okay, God, I said. Ma wants to know what her job is, and I'm running out of answers. A little clarification would be appreciated.
Lightning Bolt And A Job Posting
SPEAKER_00Then there was a flash, a crack of thunder, and a lightning bolt hit my driveway. Which seemed a little excessive, but that's God. So when I went outside to check the damage, there was no damage, but there was a slightly singed piece of paper lying on the concrete. At the top, in very official looking type, it said Position Description. 91 year old mom, grandma, and great grandma. So Ma, apparently you've been asking the wrong people. Here's what God says in all her infinite wisdom. Position summary. The 91-year-old mom, grandma, and great grandma serves as a senior member of the family continuity department and reports directly to management. This is a highly specialized position requiring decades of experience. No entry-level applicants will be considered. The successful candidate will serve as living proof that a family is more than the people sitting around the table today. A family is also everyone who sat there before them, every story they ever told, every lesson they ever learned the hard way, every person they loved, and every little piece of themselves they unknowingly left behind. The position requires no heavy lifting. You've done enough of that. Your job now is simply to be here. Apparently, this is more important than you think.
The Duties Of Family Memory
SPEAKER_00Under Essential Duties and Responsibilities, it read as follows. Remain the keeper of family history. Remember people the rest of us never met. Tell us what they were like. Correct us when we get the story wrong, and remind us that our family existed before we showed up, and God willing, will continue long after we're gone. Tell the same stories again. Yep, even the ones we've heard before, especially those. Someday someone will desperately wish they could hear you tell one of them one more time. Answer questions nobody else can answer. Who was related to whom? What really happened that Christmas? What did Grandpa actually say? Who started that argument? And why did everybody stop speaking to cousin whoever? Historical accuracy is preferred, but at 91, editorial privilege is granted. Ongoing professional development may be conducted through People Magazine, known to the family as Normandy Illustrated, because somebody has to keep track of who's marrying who, who left whom, and who really ought to know better. Continue to be somebody's mom. Please note, there's no expiration date on this assignment. Your children may be grown, they may have children and grandchildren their own. They may also have gray hair, bad knees, mortgages, Medicare cards, and opinions they insist on sharing. It doesn't matter. They're still your kids. And every once in a while it's enormously comforting to still be somebody's kid.
Still Somebody’s Mom
SPEAKER_00And I want you to know this, that the two angels in this department who are your parents made sure I put this line in. Service grandma and great grandma. Your presence connects generations that otherwise would only know each other through photographs. You're the bridge between before I was born, and I remember her. That bridge is priceless. Accept visits. You're not required to entertain, nobody needs dinner, nobody needs the house cleaned, nobody needs you to do anything. Just sit there, talk, laugh, complain a little. Ask what everybody's been up to. That counts as a productive workday. And wine is permitted, by the way, particularly when accompanied by a little harmless discussion of other people. The employee's coaster that reads, Let's drink wine and talk about people, has already been designated for inheritance going to her youngest son Drew, proving that even at 91 she remains committed to succession planning.
Perspective And The Practice Of Receiving
SPEAKER_00Provide perspective. At 91, you've survived things that once seemed unsurvivable. You've buried people you loved and somehow kept loving the people who remained. You've watched children become adults, adults become parents, and babies become people with lives of their own. You know something the rest of us are still learning. Life changes, heartache passes, and joy comes back. And most of what we worry about isn't nearly as important as who's sitting beside us while we worry. This is a big one. Receive love. This is an important new responsibility and one the employee may find difficult. For most of your life, your job was giving, given to children, given to family, given time, worry, meals, advice, comfort, patience, forgiveness, and about 10,000 other things that nobody thought to put on a resume. Management has determined that you've accumulated considerable unused vacation time. Now you're expected to let other people do some of the giving. Here are the required qualifications. 91 years of life experience, extensive background in motherhood, advanced certification and grandmothering. Great grandmother status is considered a major plus, and a demonstrated ability to survive joy, sorrow, change, loss, worry, family nonsense, and the occasional person who desperately needed to be told what was what. The ability to love people even when they make it difficult, and the willingness to occasionally sit quietly and allow your family to simply be grateful that you're still sitting there. Compensation. There's no salary. Management acknowledges this is a long-standing problem with the position. Your compensation instead includes hugs, phone calls, visits, birthday cake, family stories, being asked questions you can't believe people don't already know the answers to, and the knowledge that pieces of you are walking around in children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Your benefits will continue for life and beyond. See pension plan below. Term of employment. The position has no predetermined retirement date. That decision belongs exclusively to management. Repeated inquiries regarding why am I still here will politely be noted but may not receive an immediate response. Management operates on
The Pension Plan And Final Note
SPEAKER_00her own timetable. Pension Plan. This one I found pretty interesting. Pension Plan. Upon completion of active duty, the employee is entitled to management's full retirement package, including free room and board for eternity, restoration of eternal youth, and unlimited time in the company of everyone she has ever loved who went on ahead, and eventually all those who will follow. Special arrangements have already been made for a long overdue reunion with her parents, Stan and Jen, two of management's favorite angelic employees of the month, and two fellows who meant a lot to you, George and Richie. Oh yeah, and all those dogs. No premiums, no deductibles, no expiration date, and this time nobody ever has to say goodbye. All of this made my head explode, but there was more. There was a final note from management, and it reads like this. Normandy, you keep asking what your job is. Maybe you're looking for something you're supposed to accomplish. There isn't. You already did the building. You raised the family, you carried the worries, you made the memories, you love the people through their best days and their worst ones. At 91, your job isn't to prove why you deserve another day. Your job is just to have the day. Have your coffee, look out the window, tell the story again, laugh when something's funny, and let somebody fuss over you. Let your children hear your voice. Let your grandchildren ask you questions. Let your great grandchildren someday be able to say, I remember her. And when you wonder why I haven't called you home yet, don't worry about the reason. That's my job. Yours is to stay right where I put you until I say otherwise. And while you're there, keep doing what you've always been doing. Be their mom, be their grandma, be their great grandma, be here. Be in the presence of the people you love, and for that matter, everyone in the world. You'd be surprised how much they still need you. Kind regards, God. P.S. Happy 91st Birthday. And stop asking. I got this.
Birthday Wish And Sign-Off
SPEAKER_00Happy birthday and stolot, Ma. I love you. And for all of you who are listening, thanks for listening. And I hope you enjoyed this little tale. This podcast is a production of Left Brain Right Brain Studios, and it's part of You Don't Say stories from the Drew Zagorski Files. Copyright Drew Zagorski. All rights reserved.