Losing…and Winning

I recently received notice that one of my spouse’s aunts had passed away, accompanied by information on the upcoming celebration of life to say goodbye and to compare stories with other family members and friends. While not unexpected at her age, I was sad to know that we wouldn’t get that occasional call that started, ‘Hey, this is Aunt Jo….’  As well, I would miss the invariable fun and entertaining conversation that followed. She was the one who welcomed me to the family so many years ago, telling me about my husband’s now-deceased father, whom I never met, of her sister and his courtship, marriage, foray into parenting, and so forth. Not to mention hilarious, but far-less-flattering stories about the entire family I was to become part of, and learn to love as my own. I would later learn from my husband of her earlier life, right in the heart of the Washington political scene for so many years: of skirmishes with the left and right, as well as personal triumphs over some of her not-so-favorite political figures, all while having as good a time living life to its fullest, as only she could.

While it left me sad for a while, it also brought back so many memories, not just of my time with her, but with my own family. Memories of my grandmothers, and my grandfather, of great aunts and uncles, who were so close to us they were almost parent-figures at times, of the times at the beach house where dinner was so truly a collaborative event that the phrase, ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ was made irrelevant. The holidays we made the trek to their house, or them to ours, to be with extended family during the Christmas holiday, and celebrate, not only the holiday, but also our time together. As this flood of personal memories went through my mind, of Aunt Jo and of my own now-gone family members and friends, I realized what memories do for us: they keep the spirit of these people alive and well, and make them a still-vital part of our lives. No, we may not be sharing a glass of wine together, or making cookies, but they are still with us. Guiding, directing, and helping us remember who we are, and where we are going, or where we want to go. And so importantly, helping us remember that failures are not the end. Failure is only the dead end of one way to do something, and it’s now your challenge to find the best way that works for you personally.

As the thoughts above went through my mind, I thought about my own journey through life, and how each of these people, as well as others now no longer with us, gave us some insight into navigating life and the world as we know it. From them, I learned perseverance, of how to keep getting up when I’ve been knocked down, to treat everyone—EVERYONE—with respect, and that showing love is the best way to go through life, even if, maybe especially when, it is not returned.

So I celebrate all those I have known for the love they showed me by being a part of my life, and left me with the legacy of doing the same.