The Gifts We Leave Behind

The tiny woman in the back is Audrey Carroll O'Brien. She passed away in July at the age of 85. Her presence was acutely missed this holiday season and it was difficult to get through the day without crying. The kids surrounding her in the picture are her great grand children and the little guy in the yellow shirt is her great great grandson, Braydon. 

​Audrey had a wonderful life. It wasn't perfect, she wasn't perfect, but none of us are. Tomorrow we are heading to the bay and to her church where they are putting up a plaque in her honor. Once again the tears will come. When she first passed, I couldn't cry at all. I was busy thinking about how to process her estate, listening to my husband give me direction, what goes where, who gets what. We made lots of mistakes and learned that no one gets through the grief process unscathed.

Two months later, I still hadn't cried. I shed a tear or two now and again, but honestly, grief hadn't  hit. ​I was starting to get worried. Everything was done. Even the house had sold to a young man from Russia who wanted to live next door to his brother. It was difficult letting go of something so intimate as a house, but it had to be done. We promised her.

​It was in December when grief found me. I found myself working through project after project. My husband couldn't figure out what I was doing and I couldn't figure out what I was doing. I remember standing in the kitchen with a bottle of Windex in my hand ready to go clean a sliding glass door that had already been cleaned. I asked myself: What am I doing? And burst into tears. The crying went on for what felt like days.

​Then, ​I redecorated both bathrooms. I mean even the hard stuff like caulking and grouting. I was up and down ladders, experimenting with all kinds of paint and textures.  Just this morning, after vacuuming the rug for the third time my husband said, "Is this ever going to stop?"

​Once again I asked myself: What am I doing?

This time the answer came: I am running away.

​Next question: From what?

From everything.

​Grandkids are growing up, we are growing older. The next generational die off is mine. That alone is a process to get through all on its own and is worthy of its own blog.  I write about my books and my life. I read and review books from all over the world as long as they are in English. I have been asked if my openness upsets my family. I don't think so, at least no one has said anything and if they did have a problem it would be based on their outlook, or rather they would be looking at life through a filter called critical judgement.  Not a good place to be.

I think what I am trying to do is leave a few gifts behind like my mother in law did. Things like how it is never good to think the world is all about you. Most of the time people are living in their own heads and are only noticing you if it affects them. If someone does say that to you it means the person commenting is not getting the attention they want or whatever need they have is not being met and you are the person they expect to meet that need or give them that attention.  It is important to look out for things like that. Sometimes the strongest people need a little help from someone they love.

Audrey taught me to never peer at life through the filter called victim. It distorts everything you see, think, and hear. I just experienced this. It was a misunderstanding on both parts and I fell into victim almost immediately. Harsh words were said and it took me weeks to figure out the problem didn't belong to me.  Normally, I would have called my mom in law to figure out how to handle this new experience, but this time I had to figure it out on my own. The bottom line was I had simply misunderstood the situation and so did the other person. It happens, that's life.

​My God I miss her. I can still hear her laughter--her voice. It was so important she leave a little of her wisdom behind. She can rest peacefully. Her mark in my life can never be destroyed. And perhaps, if I am lucky, I can add a little of my own to those that come after me.

​Happy New Year