Unfinished Business

My grandmother kept a diary for every day of her 63 years of marriage. Her last entry was the day my grandfather died and it simply said “Dad died today.” It seemed so simple but now that I have been widowed for almost eleven years, I have realized what those words implied – I have walked in her shoes. It is a very difficult adjustment and you never stop missing your loved one. But you find a way to move on and make a life without them.

When my grandmother passed away three years later, and the aunts were getting the house she had lived in for almost fifty of those sixty three years, ready to sell, they found many of her “diaries.” My grandfather was active in many jobs and organizations, and my grandparents would receive the little yearly date books given out at the end of a year and those were what most of her entries were in. My sister happened to be visiting at the time they were working on the house and managed to get about fifteen of the diaries, I later transcribed most of them. They were fascinating as she was more of a historian than she realized and would start each day with the temperature and humidity noted, then who she sent greeting cards to (or received them from if the occasion was noted) and spoke often of her relationship to the people she was remembering.

Since a couple of the diaries were in the seventies, she noted how often they would go to the funeral homes (there were three active ones in my hometown at that time) to visitations of family members and friends and acquaintances and often spoke of who they met up with, while there, and how they related to us (if they did) or how they knew them.  As I read them, I found myself thinking how sad that the later years of their life was spent in funeral homes so often. During those years I was a young wife and mother and seemed always to be very busy and only occasionally did I have a funeral to attend..

However, this past couple of months I have attended three funerals and several visitations and I am realizing that I am at the age of my grandmother when she was writing those diaries and I am beginning to understand more fully what my grandparents were experiencing. I read my home town newspaper online and more often they include people I went to school with, or former neighbors and again I realize that this is a normal progression in life.

All of this is leading up to having attended the funeral yesterday of my neighbor. The theme of the minister’s remarks was “Unfinished Business.” He spoke of how at the time we are called to make the journey home we will leave behind unfinished business – the things we were going to do tomorrow, or next week; the friends we were going to call, or go see and didn’t; the letters we were going to write and didn’t, etc. Well, you get the picture – just as I did. None of us knows when that hour will be that we will be called home – for some of us I am sure it is sooner than we hope or expect – but I now am more aware of the unfinished business I will leave behind.

I know that many people think when I sign a letter or a facebook post or whatever opportunity presents itself to me to use my mantra ‘hugs and love’ it is like saying ‘have a nice day.’ But is isn’t, my dear relatives and friends. I have always liked to hug, but have realized in the past few years that we all have missed opportunities to hug someone or to tell them that you love them. This is my way of hugging you and telling you that I love you, if I can’t be present to do it personally. But I try very hard to never miss the chance to show those I care for that I do love them with a hug and/or being able to tell them that I do. I really want people to know when I am the one who has gone home and left behind unfinished business that it wasn’t that I didn’t let them know how much they meant to me .

So as you read this blog, please know that each of you hold a special place in my life and heart. Hugs and love to you all. 

I Hate Noises!

I hate noises!!! It is now 12:38 in the morning and I have been up five times in the past hour, due to hearing these strange noises in the house. I never heard noises when my husband was alive (except for the noises he made), but never heard noises in the walls, the floors, the doors, the garage, outside – wherever they are coming from. I never paid attention to noises in the car or anywhere else for that matter until I started to live alone. Now I hear them all the time and it drives me crazy because I don’t know what they mean!

A little while ago, and again a few minutes ago, when I got up to write this, I heard a pop outside the bedroom window – at least I think it was outside! I had just begun to fall asleep when I heard it the first time, so I got up, turned on the light and started going through the house to see if anything seemed out of place or unusual – nothing seemed to be – so back to bed. Again, short time later, same thing – so again, I get up, look through the house, go to the garage, turn on the front porch light  - oops funny, hadn’t noticed those huge icicles – maybe one of those fell – but it’s too cold, nothing is melting.

Think I’ll check at the library tomorrow to see if there is a book on Noises for Dummies and Widows! No, not tomorrow – supposed to be so cold that nothing will be open and I shouldn’t be going out anyway. Next chance I get, will check on that book. If there isn’t one, maybe I should think about writing one!  Big problem with that – I don’t know what the noises mean – so not a good idea.

Best advice I can give to my lady friends – if you are still fortunate enough to have your husband by your side, ASK HIM! Pay more attention to the little noises – and the big noises – and ask what they could be. If I ever did ask my husband what a noise was, his stock answer was always “don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it tomorrow!” Big help that is. And now there are no tomorrows and no one to ask the questions of anyway – so back to square one – what the heck is that noise and what does it mean???

Now that I have this off my chest – not that I really feel that much better, since I still don’t know what the noises I heard are – guess I will try to go back to bed again and maybe I’ll fall sound asleep enough not to hear it next time it comes – that could be a good thing or a bad thing, guess we’ll know – TOMORROW!       

Hard To Say Goodbye

This is the response I made to a post on Facebook today and decided to blog it to keep it. The post was of a daughter saying goodbye to her mother, knowing it was going to be the last time she would see her alive.

It made me think of the many times I have said goodbye to my mother - when I moved to Michigan from Illinois, then, when I lived in Michigan and she was finally able to visit us (after an absence of nine years) due to her moving to California with my sister and her family. Her financial circumstances would not permit a visit before this time and of course, with a family, it was not feasible for me to go there. However, after that visit I vowed that there would never be that much time between our visits again, and happily I can say, there never was.

There were other goodbyes, though, when I lived in California and she had moved to Oregon with my sister. During one of those visits, it tuned out to be the last one, when she died six months later.

The Facebook post made me think of a time when I was at the Ontario airport (do not remember the occasion, if we were seeing someone arriving or leaving) and a young girl, probably in her late teens or very early twenties, was saying goodbye to her mother. As her mother boarded the plane, she broke into a hard cry, so I walked over and put my arm around her and pulled her into my shoulder and let her sob. After a few minutes, she thanked me and said " it is so hard." I remember saying to her " I have been there many times and fully understand what you are feeling." She hugged me, thanked me again and walked away. I often think of her - that was some twenty years ago now - and wonder if she is still saying goodbye to her mother. Her mother would be in her sixties now. I was glad that I was there for her.

It is a good feeling when we are able to be of comfort to someone and I hope I never miss the opportunities God puts in my path. I am grateful for the many times I have been able to step out of the norm and be there for someone at just the right time. I urge you to look around and be ready to experience your moment like this.