Memories

There is appointed a time for all to die, yet it still manages to catch us by surprise or at the very least unprepared when those we love make that final journey. For those who have yet to experience the death of someone close to heart—there is no formula to suddenly know how to grieve. Death is inevitable, loss is loss and everyone grieves in their own way.
The woman lay so very near death. Her journey had been one with tremendous joy and love but not without struggle. Disease fought hard to rob her of her joy…and often succeeded. Yet love covers a multitude of wrong. Hiding in the shadow of the disease—a death sentence no one would ever choose if given the choice. Robbed of physical control she fought to maintain her grasp on every thought.
Privy to her thoughts for a period of time I consider myself blessed to have known her. To know she loved deeply, appreciated much and feared the end more than any other specter–not in the sense of the finality death brings but for the toll it would take on her family.
The time neared and it seemed as if her worst fear was now a reality…body and mind ravaged yet with the knowledge that her care was a heavy burden. She often prayed that her end would come quickly so as to lessen the duration for those she loved…it did not.
Her breathing shallow family members gathered to say good bye—thankful she is at least resting free of pain. The vigil begins. Though death was near, her end allowed for a respite. Jamaican’s call this “traveling” as a loved one lingers. The mind recalls every happy moment to relive it once more—to return at the completion full circle. Only then will body and soul part company to be reunited with those who have gone before. For her a husband, a son, parents long gone.
Socrates is quoted as saying “Death may be the greatest of all human blessings.” Yes, those who remain grieve for their loss but not for her release of pain. Her young great grandson—perhaps too young some might believe to grasp what was happening, is already well versed. He has been here before. His prayer a final farewell, “Jesus, God… thank you for taking my Grammy to Heaven to be with Grampy and thank you for leaving her ashes here for us.”
Ashes to ashes, Dust to Dust. The time of remembering shared. Memory stones containing ashes of the pair were incorporated into each stone. Stories were shared amid laughter as jazz tunes played in the background.
The celebration had come to a close…the plan was to launch lanterns set afire to rise, soaring on the winds releasing the grief of those who remained. One went soaring as if to lead the way and the earth behind…the second faltered —then burst into flame as if to say, “I will not be quenched. My fires will always remain in the hearts of loved ones.”
Yes, Grammy was feisty and stubborn. As I watched the lantern burn I was reminded of the fire that burned inside this woman. She left a legacy and wanted her friends and offspring to know she was still keeping an eye on them and so they better behave. I imagine on every birthday as candles are set ablaze, thoughts will turn to Grammy and smile.

Shoes

The little boy had already made numerous trips down the hall to the lobby. It was his job to take the items no longer needed or wanted and leave them for anyone who wanted them. He would deposit whatever he had been carrying and dash away. Bric-a-brac, stacks of Tupperware, mismatched cups all found their way onto the table and ultimately into one of the many apartments as friends and neighbors helped themselves to what they could use or pass on.

His steps slowed—not that the 5 year old was tired. He slowly placed a pair of woman’s running shoes, laces loosely tied together. Turning away a sob caught in his throat. Swiping at unbidden tears he slowly walked back to the near empty apartment. It was as if the act of placing Great Grandma’s shoes on the table somehow made the whole thing final. Recalling seeing his grandmother one week ago as she lay in the casket. No, Granny didn’t need shoes anymore.

I pondered the significance of shoes…many life lessons are associated with shoes.

“Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world.”

“If you want to forget your troubles—put on a tight pair of shoes”

“Cinderella—proof that a new pair of shoes can change your life”

If the shoe fits…?

Some even wax philosophical contemplating footwear.

You can tell a lot about a person by looking at their shoes

You never truly know someone til you walk a mile in their shoes.

Even Gandhi had a quote about shoes. “Three quarters of the miseries and misunderstandings in the world would finish if people were to put on the shoes of their adversaries and understood their points of view.”

And for a little boy realizing the finality of death… Granny left behind some pretty big shoes to fill.

It seemed fitting to write about shoes on a blog dedicated to the journey we are all making. Perhaps today you are thinking how much easier life would be if you only had an easier path or at least better fitting shoes. Are you waiting like Cinderella for the magic slipper and a happily ever after life? Perhaps your shoes are too tight from being stepped on at every turn. Or maybe your shoes are scuffed and worn—like your spirit and could just use a little tender care. Whatever your position in life, my friends—keep walking forward. Remember to wipe the dust from your feet before moving on leaving behind all bitterness and envy. Enjoy life, kick up your heels and dance as you live loving the journey.

Finding Peace

Today’s generation has a myriad of issues to deal with from a poor economy, sky rocketing prices to childhood obesity rising at an alarming rate. Many find they are sandwiched between caring for their aging parents as they simultaneously juggle the activities of their own growing children. Those who are not blessed with attentive adult children who do not wish to reside in a nursing home are forced to rely on hired help in their declining years. A friend employed as a fulltime home manager for just such a couple shared her experience.

St. Anthony—the patron saint of lost causes is one saint I am sure many even outside the faith call upon…every time they cannot find a treasured item or need encouraging along life’s path.  My research shows the prayers to St Anthony vary but a popular prayer is as follows:

Saint Anthony, perfect imitator of Jesus, who received from God the special power of restoring lost things, grant that I may find (mention your petition) which has been lost. At least restore to me peace and tranquility of mind, the loss of which has afflicted me even more than my material loss.

My friend was the caregiver who attended to Vito’s needs. He often referred to her as his personal St Anthony—because she always had an answer, idea or resolution to his problem. Whether it was a lost set of keys or misplaced piece of favorite jewelry…she always found it. When he was observed using silverware to extract a piece of wedged toast from the toaster she provided him with a safe means of retrieving his toasted bread. She certainly didn’t want him to hurt himself by getting shocked.

Everyone got to hear how St Anthony saved his life and how appreciative he was to her for her devotion. It was no secret that his caregiver was a woman of faith—even though she didn’t share the same church affiliation as he. So strong was his faith in her that when he lay near death wailing inconsolably in his fear of condemnation—it was to his own personal St Anthony that he turned for comfort.

Vito was a chemist by trade. Years before he played a large part in creating the first birth control pill manufactured. This went against all his religious doctrine. Near death he worried that his part in this business would somehow prevent him from entering his eternal rest in peace at his journey’s end.

He voiced his lament and was not disappointed when she had the answer—ask for forgiveness. It was that simple, yes, his St Anthony did indeed have the answer to his ‘lost cause.’ She didn’t waste time in long explanations but lead him in a prayer of forgiveness. He passed away quietly and in peace with his maker.

So my friend, when you feel you have lost all hope—all is not lost…tell God your need and don’t forget to thank Him for what He alone can do.

The Favorite Aunt

Her given name was Junnette. At the age of 18, I believe, she changed it legally to Janet. But everyone called her “Net.” Next in stair steps of siblings to my mother, the youngest, Aunt Net was by far my favorite.

She had an uncanny way about her—she would look you in the eye to get her point across, yet was blind as a bat. She was the first person I ever saw wear a wig and I never saw her without makeup—vanity was probably her worse character flaw.

Aunt Net had the most wonderful laugh. I had the blessing of going on a road trip with her and Uncle Ralph to Florida one spring. We had such a good time. I recall Ralph getting lost and refusing to stop for directions. Aunt Net got on the CB Radio and started chatting with truckers to get us back on course. What followed was the 2 of us speaking only CB lingo for the next 3 days—yes, it took us 4 days to drive what most would do in 1 but we didn’t care. The top down on the convertible the wind in our hair…we were free.  And yes, we nearly drove Uncle Ralph crazy.

I discovered an important lesson on that trip—although it didn’t blossom into a full blown ‘ah ha’ moment until much later. The lesson to enjoy life regardless of others opinion of you is still blooming in my life today—especially if the approval you seek is from your own family. Net bought me a souvenir on that trip we shared. It was a coffee mug with a phrase painted on it that read, “True Friends are God’s way of making up for Family.”  We shared a lot of conversations over coffee—the souvenir never made it back home with me but the memories persist even today.

My mother often spoke of her sister with a smile on her face. They shared a love for singing—although in my opinion, mom’s voice was superior. But perhaps I was a bit biased. Net loved color. The last time I saw her she sported a purple, valor, jogging suit. She was belle of the social network in the Nursing Home where she resided the latter part of her life. She seemed to have the skinny on every resident in the center. I can still see her—motioning for us to get closer—the signal that she had a bit of gossip to share.

Be at peace Aunt Net. I am sure you are enjoying being near the Lord you have loved for so many years. Rest well and give an extra squeeze to Uncle Ralph and Mama for me. Until we meet again.