Month: March 2021

We all know of many people who left the world a little better than it already was. I suppose that it is natural to want to make a difference in this life. We tend to think that only big achievements like leading a movement for justice or finding a cure for a dreaded disease are the types of accomplishments that really matter, but the truth is that small things are some of the greatest things. Sometimes it is that very quiet person that few notice who is doing the most to improve our human condition. 

When I think about my own life there are tiny moments that left the most impact on me. I remember my mother and her total devotion to me and my brothers throughout our lifetimes. I recall the time when my Aunt Polly visited me at school and saw that I had ants on my food. She not only took care of me that day but made sure that the school permanently ridded itself of the ants. I think of Mrs. Barry helping me when my mother first became so ill with bipolar disorder by driving us to a downtown hospital emergency room. I carry an image of my Uncle William changing my little brother’s wet pants on the day of my father’s death when most of the adults thought we were just oblivious little kids unaware of what had happened. I feel thankful for my friend Cappy who called to see how I was doing after my second vaccine for Covid-19 because she had sensed that I was a bit anxious. I appreciate Carol who phones me whenever she notices that I am becoming a bit overly concerned about something. My list of people who have made the world happier and more compassionate might go on for thousands of pages. It would be difficult to name all of the kind gestures I have experienced like the gift of a plant from Linda and Mickey when they saw that I was confined to my house during the pandemic or a call all the way from India from Zerin just to say hello.

All of the everyday, ordinary acts of courage or honesty or love are what makes the world a better place. Taken together they morph into a movement that quietly overtakes the negativity that so often threatens to drown us in anger and cynicism. There is indeed more than a fair share of ugliness in this world but it is far outpaced by the goodness that is literally everywhere. 

Right now I see a young man on my street playing with his little brother. Surely the joy that they are exchanging with each other will make life better not just for the two of them but for me as well. Watching them bolsters my optimism and chases away the distrust that is far too easy to find these days. 

How many people arise faithfully each morning to travel to work that seems rather ordinary but is crucial to the smooth running of the wheels of commerce and industry? We take what they do for granted until they are suddenly absent and duties pile up, things get left undone. We miss their smiles, their jokes, their stories, their dedication. They may seem like tiny cogs but if even one of them breaks the system does not run as smoothly as we wish it to do.

We have seen how essential each of our workers are during the pandemic. In fact, it seems as though everyone is essential, and they are. We need our doctors and nurses and the crews that keep our medical facilities clean. We need teachers and bankers and truck drivers and plumbers. We now know the importance of each individual. We can see how they indeed leave the world better by their presence and their actions. 

I know that I have made a general difference in this world just from being a mom, a wife, a daughter a friend and a teacher. It would like to think that somehow I have impacted someone in an important way. From time to time I have had people tell me about the meaningful changes I brought to their lives but what I really want to leave behind is compassion, integrity, and example. I try to model the behaviors that I most value. I’m not always the best, but I keep trying.  When I become angry or lose patience I simply start over again. I’m a firm believer in second, third, one hundredth chances. 

We can’t all be as incredible as Mother Teresa or Albert Einstein but we don’t have to be that outstanding to put a mark on the earth. Our influence may appear to wane quickly once we die. One day we may appear only a name on a family tree but if we really think about it each of us is an important link in history.

I often consider my great grandfather who fought for the Union Army during the Civil War. I would never know him personally, but knowing of him taught me about patriotism, loyalty and courage. I saw his impact on his daughter, my grandmother, and hers on my father. I in turn pass down the traditions and the stories from them to my children and grandchildren. I teach my family members who these people whose DNA they share were and how they made a difference in so many lives and ultimately in our own.

I recently saw an amazing photograph of a woman approaching one hundred years old who had spent time in a concentration camp during World War II. She was surrounded by almost a hundred people who were her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren. That one life that survived terror and went on to demonstrate the glorious resiliency of life will exponentially change the world for decades and hopefully centuries to come. That is how we make a difference. That is how we leave our mark. 

I rarely think about the possibility of my own death. Instead I have become a bit too worried about losing others, my family members and friends. I suppose it is a natural thing to do in a year like we have endured of late. Each week seems to bring news of people near and dear to us leaving this earth either from the virus that stalks us or other causes that often have a link to the upending of normalcy in our current state. At the age of seventy two I have had to more and more often face the prospect of human mortality and I honestly fear the deaths of others far more than the idea of meeting my own end on this earth. 

My doctor recently told me that I neither look nor act like my age which is mostly true but sometimes I find myself having conversations with friends that might have horrified me only a few years ago. We speak of our weak bladders and fragile bones. We discuss whether or not it would be a good idea to install grab bars in the shower and wonder if this may have been the last Christmas when I should climb back and forth into my attic bringing down decorations for my home. We laugh as we realize that we have become the old joke of sounding like our parents as we speak of topics that would have held little interest for us five years ago. We number our peers who have already died and feel a bit rattled when the baby brothers and sisters who annoyed us a children pass away. We understand that our own expiration dates are drawing nearer and that we need to make the most of whatever amount of time we have left. 

I remember my mother-in-law in her very practical and businesslike way tutoring my husband on her will and what needed to be done in the event of her death. It used to annoy me in all honesty that she wanted us to think of such things instead of just enjoying life and worrying about funerals and such whenever the time arose. Still I have dark memories of my own mother at the age of thirty walking through the grounds of a cemetery in a zombie like daze attempting to find a final resting place for my thirty three year old father. She always urged me to take care of such things long before I would need them so that I would not have to endure the pain and confusion of such a dire duty. So when I was only in my twenties I invested in cemetery plots for me and my husband. 

Now so many people prefer the idea of cremation and instead of having funerals they plan memorial gatherings that are upbeat and celebratory. The ones that I have attended are delightful affairs that bring people together to remember a person who was dear to them. I like the idea behind them but still want the final prayers and blessings of my Catholic faith to be part of my send off whenever that may come. As far as the other conventional trappings my theory is to keep them as simple and inexpensive as possible. The cost of burying someone has become almost as ridiculous as the weddings that are more expensive than a college education. I’m all for simplicity as long as people have a moment to grieve and laugh and remember together after someone is gone. 

Wakes are the part of the final send off that are the most meaningful to me. They give people who have never even met one another the opportunity share their memories of the deceased. It is a rare moment in which we get to see the totality of a person’s impact on others, not just the sliver of our own experience. It amazes me how meaningful every single moment of existence can be as a vivid picture of life unfolds in the stories that are told about an individual. It always makes me wish that we had made our pronouncements while that person was still alive and able to learn of all the love and enjoyment that he/she had brought to so many people. I often wonder why we wait until death to open our hearts and share. 

My brothers and daughters and I decided to give my mother a surprise party on her eightieth birthday. We believed that she would surely be one of those people who lasted until well into her nineties so our purpose was not so much to celebrate her life while we were still able to do so, but to give her the gift of knowing how much we appreciated all of the sacrifices she had made for us. For that reason we asked each of the guests to write a letter to her describing how she had impacted them. Happily we received touching responses from mostly everyone which we put together in a lovely binder. It was our way of quietly celebrating the joy that my mother had brought to everyone she encountered. 

We still have that binder with those letters to hand down to our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren so that they will know the glory of the woman from whom they descended. We had little idea that less than four years later our beloved mother would die. We had no thought to what a treasure that party and those letters would ultimately become for all of us. We literally have a written record of our mama’s impact on the world and it is a lovely gift.

My only living aunt is now over one hundred years old. Death is very much on her mind as she spends her final years in a nursing home. Whenever we visit she asks us about heaven and gets a faraway look in her eyes as though she is wondering when her moment of leaving the earth will come. She once told my mother that she worried that she would live so long that there would be nobody left to attend her funeral. She did not think about the legacy of children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and great great grandchildren that she has created. She did not consider the nieces and nephews who so profoundly love her. She will be celebrated most assuredly but perhaps it would be even nicer to let her know right now how important she is to each of us. 

I don’t know what people will say about me when I am gone. I would like to think that they will remember me as someone who was kind and compassionate because I try so hard to be that way. I hope that they will know how much I loved them and how important their well being always was to me. I want to believe that somehow my life had meaning and purpose. Mostly I want everyone to feel happy in knowing that all of the goodness in my life came from knowing and being with them. 

Two years ago my husband and I visited London with my brothers and their wives. We fell in love with the city and its history. Perhaps we were influenced by a professor from Rice University whose classes we have taken in the years since our retirement. He had made London come alive in our minds and we could not wait to see all of the wondrous places he had described. During our visit we found a modern vibrant diverse city filled with treasures from the past and so much to study that we knew we would have to one day return to see everything that interested us. 

When the pandemic came all chance of traveling to London dissolved and so we began watching videos from different people filming areas as they took walks around London. At first the changes engendered by Covid-19 were only minimally noticeable in the quick little films. The crowds on the streets were not as large as they had been when we visited but the stores were open and the traffic was moving and there was still a sense of energy about the city. Most recently as the new UK variant of the virus has forced more drastic precautions a kind of pall has settled on London that is clearly evidenced in the videos. Streets are nearly empty and shops and restaurants are mostly closed. It feels as though London has become a ghost town with dumpsters filled with garbage being the only indication that people are still living there. The virus has taken command much like another plague did back in the 1600s. 

I suppose that all of us would like to think that we will very soon be able to just return to the world as we new it before Covid-19. Many of us have decided that we are done with all of the isolating and quarantining and mask wearing and lack of human touch. We have begun to distribute the vaccines and we think that surely our most vulnerable populations are on the way to being almost immune to the most horrific effects of the virus. It is so tempting to believe that we must surely be immediately freed from all of the constraints of the past year. 

Sadly we are learning that we have to contain our enthusiasm for just a bit longer. We have to be patient as we watch for hard data indicating that all of our efforts are in fact beating back Covid-19 before we rush out to a way of doing things as we once did. We hear that the UK variant of the virus is in our midst and as of this moment we do not know exactly how it is going to impact us. Our friends in the UK warn us to be wary and those videos of walks in London provide witness to the effects of the new strains. 

So my priority for now is to continue to follow the advice of the scientists and members of the medical community. With two vaccines in my body I am in a better place but I am not out of the woods and neither is anyone else. The process of healing will be slow and hurling insults at President Biden or Dr. Fauci because they want us to keep our masks firmly planted on our faces will not change reality. Making fun of those who continue to be cautious and insinuating that they are just frightening sheep does nobody any good. A wise society and one concerned with everyone would  be happy to make small sacrifices for the good of the whole. 

We have become greatly confused about what constitutes a democracy, a republic, a socialist society, a communist nation. If someone asks us to let people know if we contract Covid-19 some argue that their freedoms are being taken away when the truth is that tracking the virus will save lives. We need to know where the outbreaks are and when we do we can protect others without ending up with an entire city or state or nation in lockdown. When we wear masks we do so to protect both ourselves and others, not out of some hysterical need to control the choices that other people make. Working together during a pandemic should have nothing to do with politics and yet we have turned it into a war of wills rather than understanding the need to do whatever it takes for the nation’s good. 

We bandy about the word patriotism a great deal these days. We argue about who has more right to claim that badge of honor while also witnessing our flag being used for purposes that fly in the face of our nation’s principles. We even use it to defend ridiculous theories that Covid-19 is a massive hoax that has been perpetrated on our citizens. Those who refuse to follow the recommendations for stamping out this plague argue that they are preserving our freedoms even as they ignore the damage that their actions have done. 

My priority at this moment in time is too stare truth in the face. I will not look away. I will not be swayed by illogical unscientific posturing. Insult me all you wish. Call me a sheep, a snowflake, a communist intent on destroying democracy. I can handle whatever you may throw at me because I know that it is far more difficult to do the right thing than to give up and surrender to my own desires to just feel normal again. I will be patient. I will be kind. I am willing to share what I have with those who have little. We are in the pandemic not as individuals or families or neighborhoods or cities or states or nations but as the world. Something happening in London or Paris or Beirut or Wuhan affects everyone of us because the virus knows no borders, acknowledges no politics and respects no walls. We make changes and stay vigilant and share and remain patient for the common good of all. I’m proud to do my part.