Have you ever heard that expression, or maybe read it somewhere, that people may not remember much of what you've actually said or done, but they'll remember the way you made them feel?
I've been thinking about that quite a bit lately, and I'm not sure why. It might be something to do with getting older. How do I leave people, whether it's my friends or my Rascal kids, after a conversation or time spent together? Uplifted, supported, happier, joyful?
That would be my goal. Did I listen to them, did I respond fully and without reserve? Did I make them laugh, let them know I found them enchanting? Did I set my own inner dialogue aside so I could commit my full attention to them?
How did I make them feel? How do they feel now, thinking about the interaction?
My Nana and Grandpa always made us feel like we were the most important people in the world. There were three of us kids and we were their only grandchildren, and when I think about their Saturday trips to our house with a box of donuts and an intention to just sit and visit for a few hours, I realize that this was the highlight of their week.
The way they made us, and their other family and friends, actually feel was a part of their great style. They were always well dressed, never schlumpy or poorly groomed. My Nana loved clothes and always had a fresh manicure, always had her hair set with curls. Grandpa had few items of clothing but they were all very good quality: pressed shirts, a felt hat, tweed jackets and wool pants. He had grown up in Scotland, in the beautiful castle city of Edinburgh, and there was always something refined about him. He was a blue collar worker, a plasterer, but I never once remember seeing him wearing his work clothes.
My Nana was a Newfoundlander, and if you've ever heard anything about Newfoundlanders being the life of the party, the most generously spirited people in the world, I can tell you that's all true. Nana liked nothing better than to sit and talk, to have a drink and sing around the piano, to dance and laugh and give all of her joy to those around her. She spoke without reserve, without pretension, and she was the least judgemental person I've ever known. She didn't care about impressing people in the slightest, but she made everyone feel full of life, of the joy of life.
If that's not great style, I don't know what is!
My father's parents were also very close to us and had their own amazing style, quite different but just as magical. The four of them were good friends until my parents divorced when I was in my early 20's, but that's another story.
How do you remember the style of your grandparents? How did they make you feel?
P.S. I'm still getting the hang of this new blog site but I wanted to thank you for reading and subscribing! I love your comments and will respond fully when I return from a trip to Atlanta in a week's time. xox