Dearly Departing....: Parting

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Parting - Seaside Sisters

We used to send each other things depicting three sisters. I found this piece in a gallery on Royal Street and instantly bought it for her. The colors were so vivid you could almost smell the salt water. SHE hung it in her bathroom and began her own nautical look.

So needless to say, when there was another one in the gallery window then she had a pair.

It's funny how sometimes you just know who would share this kindred spirit of three sisters. So parting with these pieces was a no brainer for me.

D is one of the most remarkable women I have known and is one of three sisters. Accomplished professionally D stood apart from the way I have seen most women lead, a style of her own. There has been incredible tragedy in her life that sometimes just seems endless but there is no waffling or hesitation, just pressing forward. D has great wisdom and is someone whose advice I know I can seek and respect. What my sister would have liked most about D though, is her dedication, commitment to and love of her own mother, going the distance, just as SHE did. The fisherwomen go to her, supplier of sustenance.

J just makes me smile, can be crazy goofy and great fun to be around. Another survivor, we met at a bumpy time in both our lives, a time that will stay significant for the two of us always. J's bumps were more severe than mine but she kept a sense of humor and helped me muddle through my own worries while surviving hers. J has three daughters, is a devout mother, one of the best, totally dedicated to her family. It is hard work that will pay off in the long run as the daughters have witnessed her strength through a very difficult time. The bathers go to J, tender protector.

I was unable to decipher the signature of the artist. So I hit Royal Street to try and find the gallery that had them. After two Sunday's search I gave up. Finally one gallery owner led me to believe the shop where I bought them has since closed, he was familiar with the style of work they dealt in. So the name of the artist may be secret forever. I have learned a lot from these two women, grateful for their influence. I am pleased with this parting, the ladies are with kindred spirits.

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An Explanaton

We were somewhat amazed. It became clear SHE was far more organized than we thought. Her own things were tucked in, orderly and efficiently - running shirts on one rack, adventure gear in another closet, shorts neatly placed in one drawer, dog leashes in a basket, etc. Then we began to notice a trend, collections that is. Barrister bookcases, wooden rocking chairs, sewing machines, wildlife artwork.......

Most of this was concealed really when we would visit her, camouflaged by disorder and the presence of four rowdy dogs who commanded priority consideration distracting everyone from everything. There was a mystery room or two that we weren't sure exactly what they contained and we had honored that seclusion.

Unearthing her eccentric life has been humbling. Some of it, her clothing, was easy to pass on to Goodwill, a fave hangout of us three sisters. And some was easy just to toss, my mothers aged dried flower arrangements for example. Other things will take a while. Scraps of paper with my mothers handwriting she had saved, photographs, coffee mugs with her initials, books that she loved, running medals, running shirts, stamps torn off the corners of envelopes that she found interesting.........these things will be savored then let go.

SHE lived her bucket list. Okay, there were a couple things left SHE said, but other than that SHE had gone the distance. Never a conformist, always a individualist, SHE did it her way. Most memorable is her love for our mother and the love SHE felt by her, there was never a day SHE didn't feel loved. Single by choice, SHE lead a bull in a china shop life, fearless of disparaging opinion and unyielding in her quest for the ideal.

SHE was a workaholic. SHE loved her profession and dedicated her life to it. Her work was impeccable and meticulous, a striking contrast to her laid back home. Early in her career SHE took her skills to volunteer in underdeveloped countries and this became a life long commitment. SHE demanded the highest standard of performance from herself and also from those around her whether they liked it or not. SHE didn't win friends this way but ultimately SHE earned respect.

Outside of work, her life was filled with adventure. On her 40th birthday SHE challenged Mt. Kilimanjaro. When SHE failed to reach the top, SHE simply signed up to go the next year and completed her quest. Where mission trips didn't take her, SHE went on her own. Africa, Switzerland, The Galapagos, and as my brother says, "Bhutan, why is SHE going to Bhutan?" The list goes on.

SHE began running after out mother’s death and completed fifteen marathons after the age of fifty. SHE encouraged, okay hounded, those around her – coworkers, neighbors and total strangers. SHE threw down the gauntlet and inspired many to take up the challenge adding marathons or simple 5K’s to their lives.

Years ago I took my youngest son and a friend to her home on Spring Break. Halfway there I realized where we were going and I asked my son's friend if he had any eccentric relatives. Being from New Orleans, of course he said yes, so I told him we were taking him to see ours. Her home was unlike most but I knew it would be okay to take this friend.

Growing up, she took my dolls and hid them in her tree house knowing full well I was much too chicken to retrieve them and was at her mercy. We filled our pockets with dry dog food in an attempt to get the dog to follow us on our walks through the countryside. We protected each other keeping secret that we nibbled those nuggets from time to time trying to convince that dog that ignored our invitations.

After SHE died on September 13, 2011 it was necessary to cross lines of privacy we had never traversed, it was time to unearth what was packed away and bring to the light what SHE had accumulated. We will be parting, departing or keeping things belonging to my mother, my mother's best friend Lexie who died in 1998 at the age of 94 and her own odd collection of worldly goods.

The last year of her life, her cell phone somehow got stuck sending all her messages in capital letters. It was strangely reminiscent of the voice of Owen Meany in John Irving's book "A Prayer for Owen Meany." It has left a lasting impression on me as I compare her simple and unquestioning faith in God to that of Owen who never wavered in his convictions. So I will simply refer to my sister as SHE as I write this story.

Did I mention the garage?