My
grandmother was born in the 1920s. She lived until the autumn of 2020, but well
before her death (at the age of 94) she was no longer at home in this world.
Addy had no telephone or computer. She read the newspaper, but what it
contained did not mean much to her anymore. Not only because her mental health
was deteriorating, but especially because of the unimaginable changes that had
taken place in the timespan of her life.
As her Alzheimer progressed, Addy's
memories went further and further back in time. It didn't bother her that she
often told people the same story. I enjoyed dreaming away in a world of days
gone by that I had never experienced. As a child, my grandmother had consciously
experienced the scarcity of the war years and she had never stopped living
frugally. People didn't know any better in the old days. The grocer on the
corner sold his goods plastic-free and he knew the origin of his products. You
paid quite some money for new purchases, but they were enjoyed for decades or
even generations. Shoemakers and tailors did creditable work, as did handy
housewives and grandmothers. Nothing was wasted.
“Sometimes, a feeling of nostalgia for the
old days creeps up on me. I wonder why the quality of the past is no longer
available. Our shoes and coats last only a few years at most and even
electrical devices have an increasingly short lifespan. Is this progress? I
find it incomprehensible that masses of clothes are being burnt every year
without being worn. And that thousands of chickens are being killed due to bird
flu." I hear my grandmother cry out in indignation. No, Addy did not
understand any of this, but neither do I. Have we not gone too far in our
conception of prosperity?
I now own my grandmother's sewing
equipment. Now that she is gone, I repair my own clothes. Old-fashioned? Not at
all. I believe that with today's knowledge and resources, we can work together
on a future-proof economy, one where production is not about money, but in
service of life on earth. For me, the future belongs to things that last a
lifetime, so that my grandchildren will also be able to say "Look, this
was grandma's".
