Short memories

Maybe because my parents grew up poor in the Great Depression, but the concept of “multi-generational households” just does not send me into a panting fit. My Dad often told stories of having 3 or even 4 generations of family in the same house. It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t odd and apparently no one viewed it as either an imposition or something to be ashamed of. The older generations watched after their grandkids and did such things as they could to contribute to the running of the household, along with providing a font of hard-won wisdom about living life.

However, in Moscow on the Catawba (AKA Charlotte, NC), it’s apparently the “only option” for many, pant, pant, pant. Please give us money to care for the poor-and-starvin’ is the unstated subtext.

Great Bleeding Ghu, how far we have come–and what we have lost in the process.

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