Growing up I watched my nana do crossword puzzles every single morning. She would have my grandpa go down to the little country store by their house in Upstate New York, get a copy of the Press Republican, only to pick out the section with the crossword and leave the rest of the crisp pages folded neatly on the edge of the fireplace near her chair for him to collect and read himself, perched comfortably at the table with his morning cup of black coffee.
Nana always worked in the same armchair, plaid with big plump cushions and pillows that acted as armrests. She insists on doing the puzzle in pencil, because she only gets one shot and if she doesn't finish the puzzle or messes up somehow, her day is just not complete. Within arms reach was her morning toast, peanut butter and strawberry jelly on oat and nut bread - her favorite - with her boston terrior Bubba perched on her footrest, waiting patiently for the crumbs that were surely to fall.
I always thought this was a funny tradition, something to occupy her days after she retired as a school teacher and principal in the town where my parents both grew up. One day, after she had requested my assistance on a pop culture clue (on Harry Potter...she thought he was a singer) I asked her why she did the crossword so religiously every morning.
"How do you think your nana stay so sharp in her old age?" she smirked back. Nana is famous for never wanting to reveal her age, even to family. Her second marriage was to a man much younger than her (we guess about 10 years) and it has remained a guarded secret. Recently diagnosed with liver cancer, her greatest moment of anxiety was revealing her true age to the doctors, rather than the cancer itself. The cancer she could beat, but we would never forget her date of birth. She made everyone but the doctor leave the room before she would tell him.
But it's true. . . nana is sharp as a tac. She doesn't miss a beat, is witty, and can regurgitate birthdays and phones nuimbers on command. She even knows the exact birth weight and time of each her children, as well as her grandchildren and single great-grandson.
So I started doing crosswords. Beginner at first, gradually moving to harder books. In high school my friends and I used to sit around the table at lunch trying to solve the NY Times crossword.. Monday was a breeze but on Fridays we were lucky to get even on clue. (Sounds lame, I know, but this is not so out of the ordinary for geeky boarding school kids wth time on their hands). Now i do one on the train every morning on the way to work. It gives me a sense of accomplishment before I even start my formal day and it makes me feel good to benefit my future old-lady self.
So I guess the moral of the story is that silly little things like crossword puzzles can make you happier than you can imagine. For me, it is the memory of summer mornings spent watching my grandparents go about their routine, something so familiar and so comforting. Funny what a bunch of little black and white squares can do.
Nana always worked in the same armchair, plaid with big plump cushions and pillows that acted as armrests. She insists on doing the puzzle in pencil, because she only gets one shot and if she doesn't finish the puzzle or messes up somehow, her day is just not complete. Within arms reach was her morning toast, peanut butter and strawberry jelly on oat and nut bread - her favorite - with her boston terrior Bubba perched on her footrest, waiting patiently for the crumbs that were surely to fall.
I always thought this was a funny tradition, something to occupy her days after she retired as a school teacher and principal in the town where my parents both grew up. One day, after she had requested my assistance on a pop culture clue (on Harry Potter...she thought he was a singer) I asked her why she did the crossword so religiously every morning.
"How do you think your nana stay so sharp in her old age?" she smirked back. Nana is famous for never wanting to reveal her age, even to family. Her second marriage was to a man much younger than her (we guess about 10 years) and it has remained a guarded secret. Recently diagnosed with liver cancer, her greatest moment of anxiety was revealing her true age to the doctors, rather than the cancer itself. The cancer she could beat, but we would never forget her date of birth. She made everyone but the doctor leave the room before she would tell him.
But it's true. . . nana is sharp as a tac. She doesn't miss a beat, is witty, and can regurgitate birthdays and phones nuimbers on command. She even knows the exact birth weight and time of each her children, as well as her grandchildren and single great-grandson.
So I started doing crosswords. Beginner at first, gradually moving to harder books. In high school my friends and I used to sit around the table at lunch trying to solve the NY Times crossword.. Monday was a breeze but on Fridays we were lucky to get even on clue. (Sounds lame, I know, but this is not so out of the ordinary for geeky boarding school kids wth time on their hands). Now i do one on the train every morning on the way to work. It gives me a sense of accomplishment before I even start my formal day and it makes me feel good to benefit my future old-lady self.
So I guess the moral of the story is that silly little things like crossword puzzles can make you happier than you can imagine. For me, it is the memory of summer mornings spent watching my grandparents go about their routine, something so familiar and so comforting. Funny what a bunch of little black and white squares can do.