Another Day in the Country
Reaching out
© Another Day in the Country
My grandson came up with the idea of Facetiming my sister and me every Sunday afternoon as a means of staying in touch.
“Do you think he just suggested that to be nice?” my sister said to me. “When I was his age, the last thing I would have chosen to do was call my grandparents.”
“First of all,” I said, in big-sisterly fashion, “when you were his age, a freshman in college, you were living with me. And second, we do things to be nice all the time. It’s good exercise.”
So, the custom was initiated. It’s a little like writing a column every week in that we find ourselves asking, as the time to make the call approaches, what can we talk about?
We have expectations about this appointment. We want it to be fun, interesting, enjoyable, supportive — a bond between us strengthened. I especially don’t want it to just become an obligation.
“I’m going to ask ChatGPT to come up with some questions to ask an 18-year-old,” Jess announced, “Do you think I should warn Dagfinnr?”
She did end up texting him beforehand.
“We have come up with some questions for you,” she wrote. “Do you want to be warned as to what they are?”
The answer came back, “No. Surprise me. It’ll be good practice.”
He also had looked up questions for the older generation. They turned out to be quite entertaining.
“Was there a fashion trend when you were younger that you are glad has not returned?” was one of the questions.
I could think of some real Lulu’s like garter belts, girdles, skinny ties, and seamed nylons.
“Is there a memory from when you were younger that makes you smile?” was another question.
“If Armageddon was upon us, what three canned foods would you want to have stockpiled?”
This was a suggested question for a teenager.
“The only thing I can think of, since I’m not a very experienced cook,” Dagfinnr said, “is spaghetti sauce.”
Mine was “pinto beans, diced tomatoes, canned milk.”
What’s yours?
Our time on Facebook flew by. Before you know it, we’d been talking and laughing together for an hour.
The next time you’re in a gathering where conversation tends to be about the weather or the latest medical tragedy, bring a question with you.
Take advantage of one of those magical apps on your phone, find something intriguing to ask, and reach out to the person sitting next to you.
My sister and I went out to eat this weekend. We passed a threesome around our age, waiting to order at the restaurant.
The man, telling a story of some kind, was talking to ladies across from him.
“They’d recognize me if I were picking my nose,” was the only part we heard.
I stopped and said to his seatmates: “Do you believe everything he tells you?”
“He’s our brother,” one lady answered, “and I don’t believe half of what he says.”
We were seated a way away. When our meal was over, one of the sisters walked over to where we sat.
“Would you like a brother?” she said with mock sincerity. “I have three more just like him.”
We paid our bill, walked out to the car, and an SUV pulled up to where Jess was getting in.
“You wouldn’t by any chance have a Kleenex would you?” the driver asked.
Jess, who is prepared for any situation, pulled out her purse, rummaging for a Kleenex when she heard the lady say, “My brother was picking his nose.”
Jess looked up to find this car of siblings we’d chatted briefly with in the restaurant laughing and waving at us as they drove away.
“What a fun-loving bunch,” we said, “the kind of people you’d like to know.”
“I wonder what would have happened if we would have said, ‘Yes,’ when she offered us her brother,” I said to Jess. “Would we have liked this family? Would they have become friends?”
We’ll never know.
Now, they are just a story to share, about strangers being friendly, lighthearted, reaching out, on another day in the country.