When My Time Comes
What will you do today so tomorrow becomes the legacy you wanted to leave? ~Bill Jensen
As I write this week's column, my adult children are gathered in central Massachusetts for the funeral of my former husband's sister, their beloved aunt Laurie. One of my daughters and her husband have flown up from Florida. My son and his partner arrived yesterday from Missouri, and my oldest daughter, her husband, and three kids drove up from Rhode Island this morning. I'm home watching the rain pelt down, thinking about the requiem Mass, graveside service, and the bread family and friends will break later. At 61 years, gone too soon, is a woefully inadequate expression.
I'm on the outside looking in and thinking about the circle of life and death. Laurie and Gary married young and stayed that way for 45 years. Their teen marriage survived the test of time. They were rooted in the same community they were born into and there they remained to raise their own family of two boys and one girl.
Today, I honor her commitment to her husband, family, and community.
Fifteen years ago, I made a decision to address the alcoholism that had taken my heart hostage and was indeed pointing me toward an early grave. As a result of my recovery, each day intoxicates me, and I want more. I've made peace with the past, broken hearts, and lost opportunities.
When my time comes, raise a glass, lift up your voices, and say simply, "Regrets, she had a few, but then again, too few to mention." Let’s all shift our gaze, and in the words of late musician Wayne Shorter, think of human death as a “time to go get a new body and come back to continue on this immense journey into the unknown.”
Regrets? http://bit.ly/3ZIEO40
My dear Carol:
I am sorry for you and your family’s loss. I feel your pain acutely, via your words.
Recently you wrote a column about death. I was too vulnerable to respond at the time. But, that open wound that I had, has sustained some healing around the edges.
On February 20, my dear sister of 63 years, Marigrace, passed away. She had experienced a wonderful family day on Sunday, February 19, seeing her beloved daughter,two grandkids and our brother Monday morning, 2/20, she did not show up for school, where she teaches. A friend discovered her deceased in her bed.
Since that awful phone call and today, I have experienced many things. The loss is huge, the grief is unbearable at times, the helplessness and consequent “discombobulation” is part of the process, I understand.
I am sustained by the proud soldier that my niece presents to the world. She is a “legacy” of my sister’s parenting and love. Neither she, nor her husband, will let this loss get in the way of their family life and hope
My sister’s work legacy is also very sustaining. She taught for 42 years in the same high school. She was now teaching students who’s parents were her students.
The loss spurred me to action in a couple of ways: I bought six tickets to see Bruce Springsteen on 8/24 at Foxborough. I booked an adventure type trip to Costa Rica for November.
Marigrace’s legacy is wide reaching and full of love and light. I intend to take a leaf “from her book”.
Thanks for always leading me to think and articulate a response to your ideas.
You sound as though you are in a good place, if a poignant one. I am a phone visit away, should you want conversation.