I wasn’t born all wrinkly

For Grandma, the days were probably getting long. Hopefully, she would have the strength to come and visit them in connection with the event at the town hall the municipality was organising that she wanted to attend. She had already been there once, and in the fall there would be at least one more event like it.

Disa found out about the event in the local newspaper Virstabladet. The project was called ‘Old and young ‘united’’ mixing the Swedish ‘Old and young’ with the English ‘United’. But it was described as something to benefit both generations.

Disa had thought of Grandma right away, and sent her the page with information about the event, with a handwritten note. Just a few lines, starting with the familiar ‘Hi, Grandma!’, which always gave her the same feeling she’d had as a child when writing to Grandma. Disa had briefly written that Grandma was welcome to visit them. Then, Disa would be able to drive her to the town hall, stop just outside the main entrance and help her in and then drive her home afterwards.

Grandma had called Disa after the letter arrived and the first thing she asked about was what ‘uni-ted’ meant reading the English word with a Swedish pronunciation. Grandma was probably not alone in not understanding what the project name was trying to convey. Using that word in the name had likely been chosen by someone who did not quite understand that older folks hadn’t learned English in school. But the important thing was organising the event.

Grandma had embraced Disa’s idea, arriving in a taxi. And they’d gone to the municipal building together. Disa and Grandma slowly walked up the steps arm in arm, Grandma taking one stumbling step at a time. Outside the main entrance, she’d asked: ‘Is that the Ravens Hugin and Munin sitting there?’ pointing weakly with her whole hand at the stone sculpture standing next to the main entrance, referring to the mythical Norse creatures. Disa had never really noticed the giant stone, even though it was easily two meters high and as many wide. At the top were indeed two chiselled black birds watching over the surroundings, so Grandma was probably right.

The municipality really did their part well. As the two entered the town hall, they followed the lovely smell of coffee and fresh baked bread. They came to a room that had a dozen round tables with flowers and red white checkered tablecloths. Above each table stood an unfurled red and white striped parasol. A serving counter at one side of the room was under matching awning suspended from the wall and a matching tablecloth covered with cutlery, fresh coffee in thermoses, juice in a pitcher with ice cubes and a plate of Danish pastries, heated in the microwave. Bread baskets with red and white checkered napkins were stacked onto each other next to a plate of buns. Flower boxes with red Geraniums and Ivy were sitting on pedestals around the room. The whole setup gave of a warm, pleasant impression. A simple but lush indoor garden had been created. The air was warm, a window was wide open and birds could be heard through it. Each table had a handwritten note with different topics around which discussion groups could be formed.

Only three children had turned up, but rather more old-timers, who were making their way around the tables. Disa went with Grandma to a table where the subject sheet said ‘current events.’ A young slightly plump girl, perhaps fourteen years old, sat at the table and looked up at Grandma when she approached with her limping step.

‘Sit down and I’ll go fetch coffee and something to eat,’ said Disa.

Grandma turned to the girl who was sitting there. ‘So, you’re also interested in current events, are you?’ she asked directing a warm friendly gaze at her while she slowly sat down in the chair, sighing heavily, ‘And you’re punctual also.’

The girl looked closely at Grandma. ‘It's good to be on time. Isn’t it?’ she said with a slightly surly tone.

‘Yes, it is, it’s very good to be on time,’ said Grandma.

Disa interrupted. ‘Would you also like something? Coffee or juice?’

‘I’ll have the same as her,’ replied the girl and glanced at Grandma. Disa went to get a basket with a few hot Danish pastries and two coffees. It looked good, but she wouldn’t be having anything herself. She had to think about the calories and what’s more, the event was not for her after all, as she did not belong to either of the invited groups, old or young. She heard Grandma and the girl continue their conversation in the background and watched them from a distance.

‘What do you think about school then? I have been looking forward to hearing what it’s like at school these days. I read a lot in the newspaper, you see, and it doesn’t sound good at all. But now I have an expert here in front of me, who knows what it’s like and can tell me from her own experience. It will be soooo exciting, hear about it,’ said Grandma unable to hide her enthusiasm.

The girl had carefully studied Grandma’s face while she spoke and seemed to like what she saw. Grandma radiated warmth and humanity and quickly swept everyone up in her engaging energy.

‘It’s really boring in school,’ said the girl depressed. ‘All the teachers just nag and it’s just a bunch of tests and homework all the time. Really boring.’

‘But is there no subject that you think is fun?’ asked Grandma in an emphatic voice.

‘Well, there is social studies and the current events tests, they make them into games, but the teachers are experts in making any fun topic into a boring lesson. There is always a lot of homework. Yuck. But what do you do with your days now? Do you do anything fun at the old folks’ home?’

‘Well, I’m not sure how much fun it is really. It was in my youth that I had fun, when I went out and danced on the dance floor in Åkersbro. I had several admirers who wanted to dance with me, if you can believe it. I was not just a weathered, infirm old lady then as I am now. I wasn’t born all wrinkly if you can believe it,’ said Grandma and pressed hard on her cheek with her index finger so the indentation remained when she took her hand away. She laughed her chuckle. ‘I’m over a hundred years old, you know, you end up a bit rumpled.’

Grandma pulled her face together so it wrinkled up even more and Disa suddenly realized what it meant to be as wrinkled as a raisin. Her entire face was filled with wrinkles and only wrinkles. Her eyes and mouth could hardly be seen. Grandma unfurled her face again and laughed at herself with her warm infectious laugh and the corners of the girl’s mouth rose a bit for the first time. Disa saw how her shoulders dropped down a little bit in a more relaxed sitting position. Grandma had already softened her.

Disa pushed the two steaming coffee mugs and the bread basket with Danish pastries forward. Then she felt it was time for her to go, despite wanting to sit listened to what looked sure to be an interesting conversation. ‘Grandma, I’ll go shopping for a bit and be back in about an hour. Is that OK?’

‘Well you go and do your shopping, and I will sit and talk a bit with this precious girl here,’ said Grandma and gave the girl a smile. Grandma reached immediately into the basket and took a Danish pastry, she wasn’t one to hold back when sweets were on offer. ‘Where were we, oh yes admirers. You are so pretty you must have many admirers?’

Disa had started walking towards the exit and didn’t hear the answer. At the serving counter, she met the person who had arranged it all. She made sure the thermoses had coffee and looked contentedly at her work on the venue. Disa said a few kind words about how nicely it was arranged and the project manager had asked if she wanted a pastry before she left. She hadn’t been able to resist and took a sticky pastry on a red and white checkered napkin to eat along the way. She went past another table and heard a few fragments from a boy of around 15 and a very old man who seemed to be talking mopeds. The handwritten tag on the table said ‘Cars and technology’. All the other tables had only old-timers sitting at them. One of the three young people who had come had already slipped away. But the old folks seemed to be having a nice time talking to each other over the coffee and cakes anyway.

One of the tables was crowded. She could hear the discussion was in full swing and they were laughing loudly. She looked at the tag as she came closer, it was stained with spilled coffee and one of those sitting there was fingering it. Disa could make out ‘Religion and spirituality’ on it. But when she walked past, the laughing group, she heard it was certainly not godly topics they were discussed. They had moved on to which liqueur went best with coffee. It was probably the fact that the table was by the window rather than the prompted discussion slip that attracted the crowd. An older man sat holding his nose and showing comically how to down the sickly sweet drink that he actually didn’t really like. But what wouldn’t you do to get some alcohol down?

An hour later, when Disa came back to fetch Grandma, she had accidentally seen that the girl Grandma was talking to had scarred cuts on one arm as well as a few that looked fresh. The girl had quickly pulled her sleeves down to hide the scars. Disa did not think that Grandma had noticed it. She probably didn’t know that this sort of thing even existed. It was probably not like that in her time. It hadn’t been in Disa’s own time either, it seemed to be a relatively new phenomenon.

That someone could feel so badly as to want physical pain caused by a super sharp razor blade to make things feel better than the psychic pain of anxiety. In the past, you would have had to resolve it some other way. Although Disa had heard of this behaviour, she was still a little shocked to see it close up. There was a difference from knowing that it existed and having a flesh and blood example in front of your eyes, someone who was feeling so poorly that she resorted to cutting herself. Poor girl, she thought compassionately. It fit poorly with the happiness survey she’d seen in the newspaper the same day, which said Sweden was ranked one of the happiest countries in the world. That did not seem to apply to everyone. But the girl looked happy and carefree at the moment and Disa admired the mutual respect she and Grandma showed each other.

Disa took Grandma under her arm and helped her up from the chair. Grandma had taken the girl’s hand in hers and put her other soft hand on top.

‘It was soooo fun to meet with you. Have a good time now, little friend.’ She patted the girl’s hand a little with her own wrinkled one.

The girl looked moved. ‘You too. Are you coming the next time?’

‘Unless my energy runs out, but if you’re here I would not miss it for all the world,’ Grandma said, chuckling. ‘It was sooo fun to meet you.’ Grandma always had a kind word for everyone she met. If there was anyone who lived by the motto ‘Love thy neighbour,’ it was Grandma.

‘I will,’ said the girl.