I probably owe a large portion of who I am today to my great great Aunt Lillie. She babysat me every day from basically birth to age 13 when she died. I can remember bits of wisdom she taught me about life and about morality. I know she wasn't perfect, and I know she had some issues with other people in our family, but she was instrumental in my upbringing. Every once in a while, I see myself doing something I remember that she did, and it makes me smile a bit. Twelve years later, it's odd because she seems so distant, but I still remember so much as well.
Lately, I've been thinking about Aunt Lillie, and I wish she could've been here when I was a bit older so I could've known the person she was a bit better. I could've asked about what her life was like before my sister and I came along. I could've had a drink with her. I could thank her for everything she did for me. It's not really a regret; I was just too young to have that sort of relationship with her. I remember sitting at the side of her bed as she was dying in hospice, and I was too young to process what was going on. I never cried for her. I was just too young, which in a way was a gift I guess, as it would've been much harder to lose her later on in life.
All of these thoughts about Aunt Lillie lately come as a result of several friends recently losing people they love, of losing Brad Zandstra, of reflection on mortality and the way I live my life. Relationships become more meaningful when you realize how much they mean in your life and how much you take them for granted. Only recently have I found my parents and I expressing love verbally. Only recently have I become at all comfortable with hearing or saying, "I love you." I don't quite know why that's the case, but I have a guess that it's an admission of vulnerability. If you admit love freely, you open yourself to the inevitability of loss. It's simultaneously one of the scariest and most beautiful things humans can do, to express in some way that you're putting someone else above yourself.
I've been trying to be more open in relationships. I've been trying to have deeper and more meaningful conversations. I've been trying to be more careful than ever before in considering other peoples' feelings. I feel a considerable amount more guilt when I slip up and am a jerk. If I die tomorrow, that person who I wronged will go on thinking I'm a jerk. It's a cliche to say, "live every day like it's your last," and quite frankly, I'm tired of hearing it put that way. An acute understanding of your mortality takes more than a greeting card. It takes action.
This realization was one of the scariest parts of giving up religion for me. If there's no afterlife, the world is here and now. It's scary, but it forces you to live your life with the understanding that all that lives on after you're gone is the effect you have on the world while you're here. It makes my relationships mean more. It makes my efforts to be a good person mean more. I'm not trying to be a good person because of something after I die; I'm trying to be a good person because this life is all I have. I'm not knocking those who believe in an afterlife. If it makes you a good person, I'm all for it, but my realization that this life is all I have has made me considerably more introspective and self-critical (in a good way).
I wonder what Aunt Lillie would think of me now. I like to think she'd be proud. I like to think we'd enjoy a brandy together from time to time and sit in her sunroom and talk about life. I'd go over to check on her, and maybe I could pay back a bit of the taking care of me that she did in my youth. I don't remember ever telling her I loved her. I'd do that for starters.
Losing people is never easy. Brad was like a second father to me. I think about him every day. I never think about the bad times though, and every time I think about him, I end up with a smile on my face. I hope that someday when I die (hoping later rather than sooner), people will smile when they think of me. That's the afterlife I live in anticipation of. That's what I hope for any of my friends going through tough times, that as wounds heal, the good times prevail as the memories flood in.
It's been a while since I've written, but not for lack of thoughts that have intrigued me. I'm between terms now, and it's crazy how time flies. It's happening more and more as I get older. I'm trying to take the days one at a time and soak in as much as I can. Thanks for reading, and have a great holiday season.
