Educating Harriet . . .

Background info …
My mother is 91 years-young.  She lives on her own, she drives, and she reads romance novels in the middle of the night, large print if available.  She springs out of bed at 4:30 a.m. (the only one of her friends not to experience arthritic pain) and by 5:30 a.m., she is fully dressed, accessorized, has meticulously applied her make-up, has enjoyed breakfast and has cleared off the kitchen table.  (She’s got me beat, that’s for sure!)

The lesson …
I arrived on schedule, as promised, with laptop in hand.

Unbeknownst to me, my mother had telephoned her friends, “The computer is coming on Monday. Yes, after lunch, Janice is going to teach me e-mail.”

The one-on-one lesson quickly grew into a group class.  I sat at the head of my mother’s dining room table surrounded by three women– one in her 70’s, another in her 80’s and my mother … 91, all of whom had pen and paper in hand – anxiously awaiting (the operative word, anxious!) my instructions that would allow them to enter the 21st century, giving full access to any and all information 24/7.

I felt quite confident that Harriet would pick up the ‘drag and double click” of email in about three seconds.  After all, she is THE person within her circle of friends who knows how to set the VCR to record.

However, it quickly became clear that the computer was a bigger deal than expected.  My mother said, “This is the biggest excitement I’ve had since we got a refrigerator.  My mother was President of the PTA and a husband of one of the teachers was a refrigerator salesman, so we bought one.  No more ice deliveries!”.

Copious notes were taken … “push ON button”  … and so it went. 

What was most poignant though was to watch my mother make contact with a keyboard that resembled a keyboard that she once knew well, with hands that resembled hands that she once typed with at the speed of light (before there were computers or electric typewriters).  Hands that understood the passage of time. Knowing hands. 

I regretted not taking photographs, but rest assured, I will next visit.  And you will know when Harriet has conquered the Internet, because she will have found my blog and read this entry.  She will be furious that I have revealed her age, as she really does look much younger. 

Comments

[Lyricalkat]

As a classsical singer I long ago learned and use an aria called "Art is Calling Me". This is a ferociously hard aria that is totally hillarious! One of my favorite lines in it is: "I have the embopoint to become a queen of song!" Thanks for the Monday morning smile!!!

[Lyricalkat]

OOOOOpps, I guess my comment goes with the next entry. Sorry! Kudos to your Mom and you!

[Open Grove Claudia]

I love your mom. She's so brave - just like her daughter!!

[SuzyBear]

I remember the days (Weeks, months, years?) spent trying to get my father familiar with the computer! But once he finally got the hang of sending and receiving emails, surfing the 'net, and discovering that all his old favorites from radio, tv and the jazz world had Internet presence, there was no holding him back.

I know because I *tried* to hold him back, especially when he was trying to send a 15 gig video file to 20 of his best friends, including me, and the poor guy (and me) were on dial-up! He had to call me from a pay phone because he couldn't get his phone to hang up. He soon realized it was easier on his phone bill to just send the address. And all this with us living 1200 miles apart, too.

And I hope your mom did reprimand you for revealing her age! LOL We're currently caring for hubby's aunt, who is just a year or so younger than your mom. One day hubby mentioned her age to her to reassure her that some memory loss is common in people of that age, that she's normal and not going senile, as she feared. She immediately got angry and demanded to know how he learned of her age, as she takes great care not to let anyone know it. When he reminded her that her date of birth is on her driver's license and she used it as ID a number of times recently, handing it back to us for safe-keeping, she asked if she can just scratch that info out of the plastic card so nobody else finds out. It must be something with ladies of that era. :)