Throwback Blogs - A Personal Lesson in The Power of Legacy

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Do not worry! I will not mention the number. Or maybe it doesn't matter anymore. I will say, as the years have gone by, I have grown to understand why you tweaked that number. Aging is taboo as we live in a world that often shuns women of a certain age. 

Experience and wisdom are not valued as they should be. We are obsessed with what is new, pretty, and fresh. We drool over adulterated Instagram images and perfect Facebook (or is it now meta) families. We idolize perfection and strive to buddy up as close as we can to it.

We avoid thinking about unpleasant things.

We stick our heads in the sand and avoid that which evokes fear and dread. I guess that is perfectly normal. Why would we want to focus, for even one minute, on the dark?

Mom, as you know, I was always a bit comfortable in the shadows. I was not afraid of many things little girls hide from. At a young age, I already understood we all die. In some way, I even embraced it.

I remember the day you sat me down to tell me your dad, my beloved Papa, had passed. With tears in your eyes, you tried to find the right words to explain what happened. I remember how hard it was for you. You wanted to be sure I would not be frightened. 

Not sure if you recall what you said, but you told me the angels took him to heaven. I remember my six-year-old self calmly staring back at you as I said, “you mean he died, right… he visited last night, sat on the edge of my bed, and told me!” 

You cried uncontrollably and did not utter another word. You were overwhelmed with grief. And maybe some fear your little girl was a bit weird? We should talk about that sometime! :)

Whatever your thoughts on that sad day, you allowed me to be me. You always did that. Your only child loved wearing those pretty dresses, playing with her barbies, and dabbling in your makeup. But, she also loved playing western gunfights with dad, complete with those toy guns I know you HATED purchasing for me. You let me express myself as I wanted. 

You may not have realized it then, but that was my first lesson in authentic living.

Do you remember the time we were shopping at the neighborhood toy store? I picked up that nurse kit and asked if I could have it? You nodded and said, “sure, but you know you can pick the doctor kit, girls can be doctors too!” 

That was the day I first learned about shattering gender roles.

Oh, and that time the nuns made us do that unfair homework assignment. We had to write to government officials voicing our opposition to abortion. I was coming into my womanhood, and I was conflicted about how I felt. You explained that I needed to complete the assignment, but we could also write letters to representatives supporting a woman’s right to choose. 

That was when I first realized there would be times I would have to concede, but I didn’t have to abandon my beliefs and identity in the process. 

There were so many times you amazed me. You were the only one in our upscale traditional community who accepted a dear neighbor who was carving out a life very few understood at the time. You may not have comprehended why, and I know you struggled with processing it all, but you happily embraced our neighbor as he transitioned to she. You didn’t judge; your heart was too big for that. 

You taught me not to pass judgment and allow fear and ignorance to govern our actions and our hearts.

Little did I know what an impact you had on her. I realized it the night she came to your wake and stood at your casket weeping. She embraced dad and explained how much it meant that you accepted her choice. You never shunned her. You blessed her with unconditional love when she needed it the most.

Even through my blinding grief, your spirit taught me the most valuable lesson of all. How we live, give each day, and spend our precious time leaves a lasting impact and imprint on those we touch and in ways that transcend our physical existence.

Mom, you left me a powerful legacy. One that has evolved every day and will continue to for eternity.

Happy Birthday, mom. Your legacy lives in my heart every day!