Jacksonville author: Singing the praises of grandparents and other kindly ‘old people’

I have always liked old people. They were nice to me, they knew stuff and they never made me feel bad for all the things I didn’t know. Sometimes they would give me candy or money or tell stories that felt like a comparable treasure.

Grandparents were the ultimate old people. They were this magical mix of love and wisdom that assured me that the world was good, and that I was, too. I haven’t had a grandparent in decades. The last time I did, the internet didn’t exist. Back then, if we needed to know something we had to go to the library or ask an old person. I preferred the latter.

This summer, my treasured hydrangeas that once boasted showy blooms and giant emerald leaves became stunted and deformed, dappled by the powdery mildew of fungal disease and rust-colored spots.

I searched the internet and read until I was thoroughly confused by the array of diagnoses and conflicting remedies. For the sake of clarity, I went to the garden store fanning my sampling of diseased leaves as if they were a bad hand of cards, like the one Kenny Rogers cautioned about: “You got to know when to hold ‘em; know when to fold ‘em.”

I told the sad story of leaf disfigurement as if I were writing my own country song. All the while, the garden store employee hemmed and hawed, making twisty faces with her mouth at all the right parts of my lamentation as if she understood both my plight and the solution that would cure it. Yet, when I finished, she pulled out her cell phone to do her own internet search for a solution.

I left, dubious, with a $20 fungicide and a deep longing for old people.

I grew up when MTV was the rage and neon clothes the norm, so I hardly feel nostalgic for anything old-fashioned. But my longing isn’t so much for the good old days (whatever they were) but for all the good I knew in grandparents.

In these days of information overload, I miss the simplicity of that plain way that old people speak that tells you whatever you need to know in just a few words. There was comfort in their knowing.

There are so many things that I miss about my grandparents that have nothing to do with the fungal diseases of plants. I miss the way just being with them didn’t make me question myself. The assurance of their unconditional love told me everything that mattered.

As someone who might now be considered old herself, I recognize that my grandparents probably didn’t have all of the answers. Maybe they had just as many questions about this world as I do. But their presence assured me that the world wasn’t as scary or confusing as it seemed.

Despite not knowing as much as the internet, they taught me the most important thing I could ever know — that I was loved.

As the world becomes more complicated, the simple things remain the most significant. Our relationships with one another are what matters most whether that’s with our children, grandchildren, spouse, friends or family. We will likely never grasp the enormity of how much we matter to other people.

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Not so much because of what we know, but because we manage to love despite all the things we don’t know. In our flaws, our brokenness, the many ways we fail to measure up or show up, there’s a knowing inherent in the phenomenon of love that no computer in the world can begin to grasp.

But we can, and the value of that is priceless. It may not be the kind of knowing I need to save my diseased hydrangeas, but it’s certainly enough to save one another. I think maybe old people already knew this. What a world it would be if we all did.

Lara Patangan is an inspirational author and speaker who writes about faith at LaraPatangan.com. Her first book, “Simple Mercies,” is available now.

This guest column is the opinion of the author and does not necessarily represent the views of the Times-Union. We welcome a diversity of opinions.

This article originally appeared on Florida Times-Union: Grandparents are better than the internet for solving life's problems