CL Pauwels at Large

I’m not ready for this – not that it matters. Life does what it wants, on its own time. We have to stumble along with whatever it throws at us, doing the best we can.

Losing Mom in January was hard enough, of course; now her last brother is gone, too – the uncle who famously praised my writing but pointed out I “write like a girl.” All three of the sibs gone in 14 months’ time, leaving the 10 of us in the next generation to wonder who we’ll turn to for wisdom, for ready encouragement, and for all those  unanswerable questions. All I have left of those vanishing elders are my father and a dear aunt who was married into the family 25+ years, almost as long as she’s now been divorced…and I cling to them fiercely – never a good thing for peace of mind because, yes, some day, they’ll be gone as well.

We gathered on Saturday to bid Uncle Don farewell and to share stories of an easier time. But it left me to wonder: were those times actually easier, or does it just seem that way because we were kids? If we parse through family history, none of our parents really had it easy…lots of turmoil and division and discord – and that’s just the things we knew about. Which leads to wondering further: What will the next generation – our kids – remember about our lives?

I’ve already started winnowing out the physical “stuff” our kids will have to deal with when Hubby and I are gone – my own version of Swedish death cleaning. Emptying the parental residence after they’re gone is excellent motivation to take a good look at what we keep around and shed the dross. I’ve also sat through two sessions of an excellent writing exercise on creating an “ethical will.” What values and principles do I want to leave behind?

Which – coming full circle – leads me to ask yet another question: What ethical will pieces have I inherited from those elders I now mourn? Because each of those values mean no one has really vanished, just merged into the greater consciousness of life.

Comforting? I’m not sure. As I told someone moments ago, I’m not to the closure stage of grief yet.

Maybe someday.