Multi-Generational Musings
My aunt Dorothy passed away this week. We knew it was coming-- she had been doing very poorly for quite awhile now. I knew my aunt a little, but not as well as I would have liked. When I was in elementary school she did not live too far from us, but it had been a long time since I'd seen her very much.
She had not wanted any kind of funeral or memorial service, and her family honored those wishes, so we did not have any kind of official chance to meet together as a family and remember her. However, my father put together a short tribute with some of his memories of her. I won't share it here since this is a public blog, but I immensely enjoyed getting to know my aunt a little better through my father's memories. I never knew these things about my aunt, you see. Little stories from her younger years that made me wish I could have known her better.
I had the same experience when my grandmother died. Now I knew my grandmother quite well, or so I thought, but really, the side of my grandma I had known had not given me a full picture of what she was like. My grandma had Alzheimer's for many years, and it started to take its toll on her personality when I was still a young girl. When she died, everyone had stories to tell of the wonderful, social, vibrant woman she had been. They were not stories that placed her on a pedestal, either. They helped me see my grandma as a normal woman, with normal joys and challenges, but someone I would have loved to have spent time with. Fortunately, because of the gospel, I know that neither my aunt or my grandma is lost to us eternally, and someday I will get to enjoy spending time with them again.
It did puzzle me some why I feel like I come to know these family members better after they die than while they are still living. Perhaps it is because once someone passes on, we are not afraid to tell the real stories-- ones that perhaps we would not have shared before for fear of people judging harshly. (We tend to be less harsh on others when they have passed on I think.) Maybe we don't want to embarrass anyone. I don't know exactly. And of course, when you only know someone when you are a child (like me with my grandma) people don't tell you the real stories anyway. It made me wonder if my grandchildren or my nieces or nephews will ever know who I am now. Though I hope to be an active woman with my mind and personality still fully me when I have grandchildren, there is no guarantee that it will be so. The same with my parents. Will my children know the sides of my parents that I do?
She had not wanted any kind of funeral or memorial service, and her family honored those wishes, so we did not have any kind of official chance to meet together as a family and remember her. However, my father put together a short tribute with some of his memories of her. I won't share it here since this is a public blog, but I immensely enjoyed getting to know my aunt a little better through my father's memories. I never knew these things about my aunt, you see. Little stories from her younger years that made me wish I could have known her better.
I had the same experience when my grandmother died. Now I knew my grandmother quite well, or so I thought, but really, the side of my grandma I had known had not given me a full picture of what she was like. My grandma had Alzheimer's for many years, and it started to take its toll on her personality when I was still a young girl. When she died, everyone had stories to tell of the wonderful, social, vibrant woman she had been. They were not stories that placed her on a pedestal, either. They helped me see my grandma as a normal woman, with normal joys and challenges, but someone I would have loved to have spent time with. Fortunately, because of the gospel, I know that neither my aunt or my grandma is lost to us eternally, and someday I will get to enjoy spending time with them again.
It did puzzle me some why I feel like I come to know these family members better after they die than while they are still living. Perhaps it is because once someone passes on, we are not afraid to tell the real stories-- ones that perhaps we would not have shared before for fear of people judging harshly. (We tend to be less harsh on others when they have passed on I think.) Maybe we don't want to embarrass anyone. I don't know exactly. And of course, when you only know someone when you are a child (like me with my grandma) people don't tell you the real stories anyway. It made me wonder if my grandchildren or my nieces or nephews will ever know who I am now. Though I hope to be an active woman with my mind and personality still fully me when I have grandchildren, there is no guarantee that it will be so. The same with my parents. Will my children know the sides of my parents that I do?
For this reason I think I am going to emphasize my immediate family more in my family history. I have been tracing Terence's lines for awhile (and I don't plan to quit) but I think I will also start jotting down some stories about the important people in my life. Don't worry, I'm not going to make anything public!! But I will keep them in a safe place so that someday, when the time is right, my children and grandchildren can get to know another side of their family members. Maybe it will help keep those bonds between us strong, even when we lose someone we love.
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