TiVo My Life? No, thanks!

My Grandson in his mama's quilt 12 September 2015

Change is certain. Progress is not. ~E.H. Carr

"Progress isn't always progress," my husband said, as we drove to the lone video store in town to return the movies we'd rented. "I agree," I replied. "Remember where there were video stores all over town and renting movies on a Friday night was THE thing to do?" "Yes," he said. "I wonder what else will just plain be gone before our grandson grows up?" he asked me, disgusted. Call me old-fashioned, but I liked renting movies, pulling up at a full service gas station, and spending time with friends and family, which are things we do less and less (or not at all). I loved hearing the stories of the older generations about what life was like for them. They made "history" come alive for me, put it in a more personal context I could relate to. Now it just seems like the world spins faster and faster, while we all run around trying to catch up. Maybe what we want to catch up to most of all is a time when things moved slower, meant more...or maybe that's just me. We can get anything we want, it seems, with the click of a mouse. That's progress, right?

Except...as my family and I sat around the fire pit Saturday night, my oldest daughter Hannah wrapped her son in the quilt I'd found earlier in the day that was made by my great-aunt Eva for her when she was born. I told her the story of how Eva lovingly cut each piece from fabric and sewed them all together by hand. She inspected the rows of stitching, "By hand? Really mama?" she asked. "Every single piece," I said. "Wow! I want to learn how to do that," she said, a bit of awe in her voice. I told her about the amazing Halloween costumes my grandmother used to make for me and how much better they were than anything you could buy in a store. I remember wearing the Wonder Woman costume she made me until it was indecent because I loved it so much. I also vividly recall the lovely dresses she made that fit me to perfection, were exactly the colour and shape I wanted, and completely blew away any article of clothing I might find on a store rack. These things we would call "vintage" today were so great because they gave us a sense of human connection. Creating an article of clothing for someone or a blanked requires time that another human being chose to invest in YOU. That makes each piece feel as if it were stitched together with love.

We call this time a modern era, but much of the past we've so readily discarded holds great substance that our 'today world" seems to sorely lack. We eat crap from fast food joints (and I hesitate to call that FOOD), instead of the more delicious things we could grow ourselves. Frankly there is little in life that tastes better than a warm tomato freshly picked from a vine that you grew on your own! We have more ways to communicate with each other than ever before, and yet we rarely talk about anything of substance. Life, love, relationships have given way to this slick, fast-paced society that is devoid of any deep connections. Progress isn't progress unless we carry forward all of the parts in our "past" that truly matter. I don't want to TiVo my life to savor "later", while I kill myself NOW jumping from this to that and back again. I want to be front and center, live streamed in a life that includes real 3-3, high definition interaction. And I want a grown-up version of my favorite red dress my grandmother made for me when i was six. I'll take the Wonder Woman costume too, please!