Dearly Departing....: February 2012

Monday, February 20, 2012

Keeping - Whirly-gig

This windmill whirly-gig belonged to Lexie. It lived on her sunporch all the time I knew her. After that, it went to my sisters garage. I am not sure why it was never taken out of there, it made no sense but then, there were many things I just didn't question.

It is quite weathered, shows its wear from the past, paint peeling, bare wood exposing. It spins beautifully. After considering the age and wear, I kept it on my back porch, a clear view from the breakfast table, mesmerizing with its movement, magical. SHE asked me to take it, I will never understand why SHE left it in the garage all those years. Watching it spin through the window though is rather uncanny, I feel her presence.

I wish I were savvy enough to capture this in action and download it on this blog. This hardly reflects the beauty of the turns, or the architecture of its construction. I brought it inside as even on the backporch I could see the weather would do it harm.

This shows the wear a bit more.

So now it lives in my front room. I will take it out to the back porch from time to time to let it fly, to bring back the magic and take me closer to my sister.

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?