Welcome to my blog. I've entitled The Bridge Project for a very specific reason.
When my
grandson was born, my self perception took a serious turn that was both
exhilarating and daunting. How could it
be that I had now become someone as iconic as a grandmother? Perhaps the poignancy of it has something to
do with realizing my own mortality – after all, grandmothers tend to be in the
oldest generations of families.
I am
flooded with memories. As I push him on
the swing, I recall my grandmother spinning me on the whirl-a-gig in the park
near her home until her arms must have ached.
And, I remember asking her to count how long it took me to run around
her house. Off I’d go as fast as I could
and she’d start with “One…..” and as I came back around that last corner, she’d
still be saying “…..one.” I thought I
was the fastest person on the planet. And there were the many times at her
office when I would type away a page of jibberish and ask her to read it and
she would recite the most amazing stories back to me as if I were some
extraordinary author. I am somewhat awed
to understand that by being a grandmother, I now have license to repeat these
simple acts of fun and frolic, to imprint on that little fertile brain these
very same memories so that my grandson can move them forward for years to
come.
I’ve
also come to understand that I have a responsibility as well. My grandmother would be his great-great
grandmother and I knew her and she told me of experiences that won’t even make
a footnote in the history books. I am
truly a bridge from him to her and all the people and times and ways of our
family in between and if I ignore the charge to chronicle these things to him,
he may never know them. That would be a
travesty. I truly believe that he will
never discern himself solidly unless he senses the uniqueness and peculiarities
of his kin. He will never understand the
true nature of the world in which he lives until he learns the rapidly
compressed changes that each generation brings.
The things he hears, sees, feels and absorbs can only be appreciated if
he comprehends that a few short years ago they didn’t even exist.
Therefore,
this is the birth of the Bridge Project, a series dedicated to the transference
of memories to my grandson and any other siblings or cousins that might come
along after him. Some of these memories
may produce no more than a chuckle. Some
may delve deeper into the consciences of individuals and society alike. Hopefully, it will spark an opportunity for
others to do the same.
