From Mini Skirts to Memories: The Untold Story of Grandma

Most of the times when we look at our grandmothers we perceive them as peaceful, silent and loving women. We see them as knitting sweaters or baking cookies or telling old stories. But behind those crinkly smiles and soft hands, there may be a past not at all what we imagine. One of these stories was that of Clara, a grandmother who looked and seemed to be ordinary in all respects. She was fond of her garden, wore glasses, and would always tell her grandchildren to have warm coats. But how little they suspected that she had been one of the coolest young women of her day.

Clara was raised in the 1960s, a period of liberation, music and protest. She did not belong to the category of sitting and doing everything by the book. The lady was rather daring, rather adventurous and high-spirited. She was eighteen and already turning heads with her short skirts, high go-go boots and bold demeanor. She did not feel bad to stand out and she never made any excuse. Music is what dominated her world then. She would spend her evenings with her girlfriends listening to The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Paul Revere and The Raiders. All the songs addressed her soul and she felt alive. Music was not only sound but also a lifestyle, a means of saying that we are young and free.

However, what made Clara cooler was her automobile. Most young women were content to ride in the passenger seat but Clara was behind the wheel of a gleaming Mustang GT. Not just any car–it was her pride, her freedom, her statement to the world. She would drive down the street with her long hair flying in the wind and the music so loud to prove it, and everyone would turn the head to see what she was up to. Her Mustang was not a matter of fashion. It signified autonomy In those days, young women did not assume leadership that way. Clara was never bothered about what the society thought She led her life in her way by driving the car with complete confidence and making people know that she can go wherever she wants.

On weekends, Clara and her friends would make the city vibrant. They attended clubs where the colored lights flicked the walls, where one could not hear his/her name due to loud music and where each beat was begging them to the dance floor. Clara adored to dance. She twirled and spun in her mini skirts and boots into the night and everything became fuzzy with laughter and joy. The lady was not a member of the crowd of girls. She was charming, confident, and energetic and people listened to her. Strangers used to greet her by inquiring her name to keep in memory the girl who seemed to be the soul of the whole generation in her smile.

Clara was not restricted to parties and fashion. She had a desire to see the world and experience as much as possible. She drove her Mustang across states, attended peace rallies, and attended concerts that turned out to be historic. The lady experienced periods when the world was rapidly evolving, and she was not a mere observer of things, and she was a participant.

She recalled how she saw The Beatles in concert one time when there were thousands of screaming fans and her voice was one of them. She recalled the nights under the stars with friends, guitars were played and dreams were in the air. It was not only her youth, those were years of adventure, a treasure she could carry in her heart all her life.

Years after Clara became a grandmother, her life was very different. She did not wear mini skirts but wore soft sweaters. She sold her Mustang and got a small car. Evenings of music were substituted by reading and tea. As far as her grandchildren were concerned, she appeared as any other grandma–sweet, loving, and simple.

They could not guess that the same lady who exerted herself to remind them to eat their vegetables also had a time when she danced all night along with glittering boots, or had a time when she was rushing down highways in a roaring Mustang as her heart was beating to the tune of rock and roll.

It was not until they discovered an old photograph which had been slipped into one of her books that the truth was known. The image contained a youthful and beautiful lady getting out of her car wearing a mini dress, and confident in her outlook. The grandchildren were appalled at this. Honey, is it you, Grandma? they asked.

Clara laughed a little at it, with a twinkle in her eyes. Yes, my loves. That was me. I was young myself a long time ago. And a bit cooler than you can imagine.”

Then on Clara started to tell of her childhood days. Her grandchildren at first could not believe them. She spoke of speeding down the street, partying till dawn and belonging to a world that was brave and uninhibited. She spoke of the music that could make mountains move, nights of laughter and the camaraderie that got her through some of the worst times.

What they got to know through her was not just history. Those children understood that their grandma was an evidence that every human being has numerous layers, numerous chapters, and numerous narratives that can be found inside of him or her. She made them understand that life had to be lived with no fear of judgment.

Clara had a slowing body but not a fading spirit as she grew older. To celebrate her 80 th birthday, her family surprised her by renting her a vintage Mustang GT. They played Beatles music, brought her a pair of shiny go-go boots and asked her to tell her wildest stories once again. When she sat in that car and her hands were on the wheel, her eyes flashed as they did decades before.

She was old now, but the girl inside never went away, she said, laughing. She continues to dance, drive and sing to the music.

Even her grandchildren applauded, as it is not how old you might be but how cool you are. The real coolness is all about living, loving life and showing your memories with pride. Clara was an eye-opener who demonstrated to them that their grandma was not merely a sweet old woman, but a legend, a rebel and a reminder that all lives can be extraordinary.

And ever after that they looked on her, they saw not any longer a grandma only. They watched a woman who had lived large and who had told her story in song and liberty and who would always be remembered as one of the coolest persons they had ever known.