Death of the American Dream...

News from my mom last night is digging deep into me - it's a state of shock that I thankfully don't have to experience often. And I'm not quite sure how to respond to it, outside of mourning.

My grandpop's metal plating shop is closing in a couple months. They subcontract virtually all of their business to a very well-known company. Said company, due to the economy, is scaling back production drastically. That leaves my grandpop's shop with no work and, again... thanks to the economy... no prospects. Another footnote of small business disappearing under the weight of this economy, another dozen blue collar jobs lost.

The Shop is the foundation of my family's American Dream. My grandfather's life has been the American Dream. He came here with nothing but the clothes on his back, with a wife and two small kids in 1950, speaking no English and having very little formal education, sponsored to come here by a local church. Soon after arriving in the States, he started working at the Shop as a laborer. Conditions were nasty up until only perhaps the last ten years, cramped and viciously hot due to the processes. He (and my grandmother) worked very hard. All three of their kids graduated from college. My grandpop's dream was to own a Cadillac someday. He's achieved that threefold.

At some point, he bought the Shop. He's owned it as long as I can remember. My uncle took over day-to-day operations at some point, but even in his mid 80s, my grandpop still goes to work every day, full-time.

It is the classic American dream - the family that came from nothing, worked their asses off, and were able to achieve a comfortable life, with family and close friends around them.

The Shop closing is a death knell to that American Dream to me. It was my tangible grasp to the ideal... one that many have said has died and gone away. I shook my head, knowing that I had a perfect example of it in my family.

And now that's gone.

The biggest thing, though, is my fear about my grandpop. He's worked at the Shop for roughly sixty years. What is he going to do? The Shop has been his life. Every day, without fail, he goes to work. Since my grandma died, I think it's been the routine he needed to keep going. Whether unfounded or not, I'm terrified about what will happen to him once the Shop closes. I've read stories, and known people, who just seem to whither off when they stop working. My grandpop's one of those people, I think. I'm worried about what he'll do with himself. He'll go stir crazy if he's stuck at home.

In two months, the doors of "the Shop" close forever. I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the idea that it'll will be gone.

And I think my brain is bracing me for further bad news.