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| Me with uncle Don, cousin Donna & husband Tom holding grandchild |
About 20 years ago my mom and her two sisters each lost their oldest child within a period of two years. My brother, 18 months older than me, was 54 and getting ready to go on a fishing trip when he died of an abdominal aneurysm. My cousins each died suddenly at 50 and 51. My mom, aunts, and uncle were still alive and very active, but it was clear that my section of the tree had been heavily pruned. It was not lost on me that I was fortunate to be alive. This is obviously always the case, but these losses underlined how precious and fleeting life really is. It was a gift for me to watch how my mother and her sisters each handled the death of their oldest child. My aunt Grace still had my uncle Don and they were able to mourn their daughter together while focusing on their young adult granddaughters who had lost their mother so suddenly. My aunt Rose, long divorced, had gone through many years of difficulty and surprisingly rose to the occasion with her daughter’s two children. My mom who had been one of the most optimistic and active people I had ever known, never recovered. Her mantra became “Why not me? It should have been me. Why can’t I just die?” Her heart hardened by grief and anger (literally) she died four years later.
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| Max & his wife 28 years after he came to us! |
At 73, younger people surround me from my perch on this tree of life! Some of them, like my husband, are only months younger. Most of the college friends that we are still in touch with are of similar age, but with family and friends I see most regularly, I am the oldest. This trend began when I was 45 and a very special infant entered our lives as a week old foster child and eventually became legally our son. With our daughters off at college Max became the focus of our lives, putting me in “mommy and me” groups with much younger mothers. I thought I might feel a little out of place but I never did. We had much more in common than any age difference created. I have remained friends with some and we try to get together even though our lives have drifted apart. When we do get a chance to meet, often over tea, we usually pick up on a very personal level, since sharing the challenges of raising small children while keeping your sanity and marriage intact means there is a depth to our conversations.
In present day life, it is my “workout” friends that I see the most often. We share class three days a week and try to take a minute for tea and chatting after, with a fairly regular lunch after Friday class. These connections have become the locus for birthday-holiday-BBQ gatherings that include our partners. Except for Rose who is about 18 months younger than I, the other women average about ten years younger. As with my friends from Max’s preschool days, we have much more in common than not. I’m just a little higher on the tree. I do have some women I look up to in my classes as well. Two of the women who I have shared gym classes with for 10-15 years are 10 years older than I am. They are both active and keep up with the whole class. Norma is a super golfer who plays regularly and often wins her bracket. Sometimes when we are on the floor holding a plank position and I feel like letting go, I look over to see if Elise and Norma are still holding. I tell myself, if they can do it, I can do it! Being toward the top of the tree can have its benefits if you remain aware of the lessons life gives you, and the gifts you have to share.
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