90 and counting

So I went to Ledbury on Saturday to go to my nan's 90 birthday bash!

90! Now thats a proper head fuck!

That means she was born in 1917, the end of WW1. If you are my sort of age, then thinking back to decades I lived through, like the 80's seems long enough ago. The 50's seems like a different age and the first few decades of the twentieth century are something I cannot even associate with, apart from through history books and old films!

The only other association I have is with my Nan, who existed then. Crazy. She doens't talk about her life much, even with some probing she will chat about things, but I don't know a huge amount. I guess that is not suprising though as remembering interesting or relevant things over a 90 year life span can't be easy, plus my nan is quite private so doesn't generally chat about herself anyway.

I find her amazing though, absolutely amazing. She has recently moved into a sheltered flat, earlier this year in fact. Up till that point she has lived in the same big house, in a small feudel-like village called Eastnor for about as long as I have been alive. My grandad died some years ago and so she has been home alone so to speak, maintaing a 4 bedroom house and garden by herself. She still drives and until about 5 years ago (if that) she was doing meals on wheels for pensioners, some of whom were over 20 years younger than her.

I love her spirit as although her age is showing more these days, she is determined to live her life and support herself as long as possible.

It was strange to celebrate her birthday, aware of how old she was. I don't mean that to sound off, like I was shocked by her age, more I was just silenced somewhat by the fact I was in the presence of someone who had seen and experienced so much and must know a wealth of things that in the not to distant future, will be lost forever.

I often wonder if thats why I am an artists. To preserve or at least try and document elements of my life and those around me in this age, for future years. If we don't record things some way, then how much of this knowledge will be lost?

I often think that we, as a society, treat older people with little respect. They retire and we treat them as kids again. In other cultures, the elders of a tribe lead that tribe. or at least they are consulted for their experience about important issues. I find it insane how bad we are at that, how much experience just gets over looked because we consider older people to be no use to society any more.

I find it a shame we don't have a decent story telling tradition in our modern culture. I would love to be armed with a wealth of stories past down to me from my relatives that I could relay to the generations below me to preserve the knowledge and take it into account, when ineviatably, similar situations arise.

My nan has had an insane background. She is from a traditional colonial family background. She went to finishing school in Switzerland, lived in India for many years of her youth and countries like South Africa as an adult.

Her father was chief of police in India and so must have been involved in events that I would find appauling. But how I would love to know more about that and what his life was like. She showed me some photos a few years back of her parents wedding, or maybe it was grandparents, in India and I was shocked by the number of servants in turbans there were.

90 years of knowledge and information, yet I do not make the time or effort to learn more from her.