Three generations

Last week, my 10 year old granddaughter Lux 

did an exercise at school where she was given a list of sentences to complete, each beginning with an 'I' and a verb.

Isaac (her dad and my son) shared it with Dave and me (and the world, too, actually.)

I said to Isaac (47) 

that it would be interesting to think what he might have written when he was 10, and what he'd write now. So he sent me his own completion of the sentences:

I am a father, husband, and provider.

I wonder what's going to happen with everything.

I hear the news and it's awful everywhere.

I see the world and it looks like end times.

I want respite. Long for it.

I am a father, husband, and provider.

 

I imagine a great future for my kids.

I feel optimistic, in spite of everything.

I touch the world through a screen.

I worry that humans aren't equipped to be connected like this.

I cry very rarely indeed.

I am a father, husband, and provider.

 

I understand people only barely.

I say one should do one's best.

I dream fretfully.

I try always to remember how fortunate I am.

I hope we can figure this out as a species.

I am a father, husband, and provider.

 

I am Isaac.

And then I sent him mine, which I wrote straight off, without prior thought. I am 70.

Here it is:

I am a grandmother and a little-known writer.

I wonder if I’ll ever get a publisher.

I hear too much awful news.

I see beauty all around me.

I want a kind, just and honest government.

I am a Quaker.

I imagine things will just get worse and worse.

I feel sad and outraged that people are not kinder to refugees.

I touch my cosmos and tell them how nice they are.

I worry I’ll never see my American grandchildren again.

I cry when people I love are suffering.

I am doing my best.

I understand what is important in life now I’m old.

I say I will never write another book and then I do.

I dream about my parents.

I try to be kind.

I hope things will get better soon.

I am tired of waking up and reading bad news.

I am Sue.

My cosmos