Whenever we walk into an Apple Store and belly up to the “Genius Bar,” I half expect all the Geniuses to greet us by name. Over the years, we’ve spent a lot of our hard-earned money over the years on Mac computers, iPads, and iPhones.
This time, I approached the Genius Bar with trepidation: I had been given the daunting task of picking out a computer to replace the old desktop my parents used for the past two decades; it was so old that it was no longer able to be updated; the keyboard and mouse were, on a good day, slightly functional at best. Despite their best efforts to keep it going, it was finally time to find a replacement.
My parents, both in their 90s, have become dependent on their computer for many things, mainly as a line of communication to relatives near and far. But I worried about replacing their computer, especially with an Apple product, and even moreso, with a laptop. But my mother insisted that she was ready to adjust to the smaller size and feel of a sleek laptop.
Technology and my parents, however, are not a natural fit. Both my mother and father grew up in the shadow of the Great Depression, where thrift, mending, and making do were points of pride and necessity. The idea of “fast fashion” and single-use Keurig cups are completely antithetical to everything they learned in their childhood. They do not, nor will they probably ever own a cell phone. My mother bakes her own bread, knits and sews much of her own clothes, and both of them are charmingly but firmly set in their old ways.
And yet, here I was, discussing the finer points of a laptop computer with Steve, the sales associate assigned to me at the Apple store. Despite the frigid cold, he wore cargo shorts, sandals, and a long pony tail that swished gently along his spine as he asked me about purchasing a warranty and a carrying case. I politely declined, explaining that I was making this purchase for my 90-year-old parents, and extras would not be needed. They needed a reliable, somewhat reasonably priced laptop that would allow them to email, check the weather and news, and occasionally look up videos on YouTube.
Setting up the computer at their apartment, I marveled at my parents: after nine decades, they have witnessed remarkable changes in technology. It must feel like whiplash.
I go through a mental catalog of the advances made in the past 90 years: the development of the internet and cellular technology: DNA research, cloning, cancer research, space exploration, electric cars, smartphones, GPS, artificial intelligence, self-driving cars … The list goes on and on at a dizzying pace.
It makes me wonder what kind of changes I will see if I am lucky enough to live that long. I also wonder how set in my ways I’ll get. Will I be as open as they are to embracing something new?
I see my mother at her computer desk, sitting up straight, flipping through her massive notebook where she records important information like email account passwords and login information for her medical records.
Is this what aging feels like, I wonder, seeing the world race by at an increasing pace until finally, one must decide whether to sit things out or to grab on with a shaky grasp, determined to hold on as tight as possible for fear of getting thrown off and left behind?
I hope I am fortunate enough to live as long as my parents. I hope I will remember the sight of them leaning into their new laptop computer, determined to make sense of this confusing and foreign machine in this dizzying world. In the past several months, they’ve moved to a cozy apartment after selling their home of 30 years. To downsize, they had to part with many items they’d collected throughout their lifetime. Even in retirement, they had to continue learning and adjusting, and that continues to this day.
Even though I am the one supposedly teaching them how to use a new laptop, they are the ones teaching me. I’m seeing the value of staying open to new things, never expecting things to stay easy or comfortable. Hopefully I’ll remember to grab on, hold tight, and keep on clicking.
