A full life, a lasting legacy
Another of several entries I began the weekend of November 4. It was a very difficult task to dismantle her apartment. Thank God I didn't have to undertake it personally - it was difficult enough just to see it. Having spent years in the handcrafted furniture business, her place was decorated in a way that mirrored her personality. I remember going in there just days after her death - hesitant at first, I was surprised by how comforting it felt to be there, as though the apartment had become her incarnation. It felt like a visit with Barbara herself.
Some people live life so large, you feel subdued by their presence, like a small flame starved for oxygen. Barbara was one of those people. Except that you never felt that way in her presence - she was a joy to be around, so full of energy, so positive, so supportive. If you were a small flame, you felt large when you were with her, because you fed off her energy. It was after you had spent time with her, and then failed to resist the temptation to compare your own life with hers, that you could feel subdued.
I admire my sisters for their strength and skill in dismantling it all in orderly fashion. By the time the rest of the family arrived, everything was packed and segregated, according to recipient.
How difficult it has been to accept Barbara's possessions. If I had the money, I'd have kept the apartment's lease indefinitely, and left the contents intact. Then, whenever we wanted to visit Barbara, we could just go there and sit for a while. How comforting that would have been. I look at her things in my house and I think how strange it seems, until I reflect that she'd have wanted me to have them. She'd have wanted us all to enjoy the things she cherished. And that brings some comfort. After all, it is her love, her strength, her determination and her courage that live on in my heart and in my mind - the possessions are simply subtle reminders to treasure that legacy.
When you spend your life opening doors for others, yours shall never close.
2 comments:
After everything had been packed and the family had left, I went back up to the empty apartment and took some pictures. This was her bedroom door. I love this picture. It reminds me that she is still among us - that her door will never, ever close.
Jim,
I love this picture. It adds a beautiful layer to your loving story posted with it.
So, did Barbara give you/help you hone your aesthetic values? Discuss.
Happy Thanksgiving/Susmas
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