The Girl Next Door

“Youth has no age.”

 Pablo Picasso

            My mom takes my grandfather out to lunch every Wednesday; in the summertime or on school vacations I like to tag along to hear my grandfather tell his stories. Lately when I ask him how he’s doing he’ll say, “Not bad for an old buck!” which he then follows with, “Jillian, never get old.” Whether he means “never lose your youth at heart” or simply “don’t let your joints and bones become rickety,” I can’t be sure.

Either way, I have learned through all the people I have interviewed that everyone reaches a point in their lives where they begin to lose the ones around them who they love most; it has to happen at some point or another, otherwise what is it that makes us human? So we hold on to the past and we stay young at heart, our souls young within aging bodies, but the promise of life still as fresh in our eyes as when we were children.

My grandfather, Ray, lost my Nana Gloria three years ago and is about to lose his cousin and lifelong best friend, Louis. So for my dear Grampy, and for you too, reader, I will bring you back to a happier time with memories that will never fade.

My grandfather grew up in Lawrence, Massachusetts, where he attended a Catholic school. You know the kind, where the classes were taught by nuns with yard sticks in hand, ready to set unruly boys straight. “They had a mind of their own,” Grampy told me. “Everything had to be perfect.” When he was in the third grade, the boys in his class were talking too much so the nun had them stay after. She had them all bend over their desks and came around with a big stick. “Whack, whack, whack! She’s coming toward me and I said, ‘that’s it, I’m gone!’ and I took off like a jack rabbit,” Grampy recounted his gutsy move with a laugh.

Despite the prickly nuns, not everything about the Catholic school was bad. He remembers that when they left school they “had to march in ranks” to the rhythm of the piano, played by Nana Gloria.

Grampy fell in love with the girl next door. “Never thought at the time that we’d get married,” he recalled. His grandfather used to tell him, “Ray, if you don’t marry Gloria next door, you’re damn fool.” I guess my grandfather is no fool.

It’s a romantic story, really, how Nana and Grampy were engaged. They were driving by Mt. Washington in Grampy Ray’s ’47 Chevrolet convertible with the white top. Grampy’s cousin, Louis was driving with his wife next to him in the front seat. And Ray asked Gloria to marry him, in the back seat of his Chevrolet with Mt. Washington rising majestically nearby.

Ray and Gloria would spend decades of happiness together, travelling the world, creating a family, and leaving lasting impacts on everyone they met. To look back on their life together, it is enchanting to think that it all began when Ray fell in love with the girl next door.

            My name is Jillian DiPersio and I am a sophomore at Windham High School. After learning the stories of my own grandparents, I have been interviewing the elderly. Through my research and interviews I have been able to dig up some incredible bits of history from the lives of local residents, as well as learn about people who are the products of a different generation. If you or someone you know would like to share your stories, please contact me at jillian@dipersio.com.