My Interior Castle

It has often been reported that people take an interest in genealogy for the first time after they have lost a loved one.   This makes a lot of sense.  It is often after the death of a loved one, as family and friends gather, that stories are told of the old times.   New, fun facts and insights of a life emerge and what may have been thought to be a clear picture of a person comes into an even sharper focus.   This of course can spark an interest into finding out more about the life and loves of the generations that came before us, but I think the interest, or even drive, to find out more goes much deeper then learning fun and interesting facts.   When  a loved one passes, there is a loss, not just of the loved one, but more directly, there is a loss of who that person was to us.  Our identity can take a hit.    

As I am writing, I am in the midst of a vigil as my mom transitions to the next journey of her life.   Yesterday, we were able to move Mom from the isolating, sterile environment of an ICU in Pittsburgh, to Liza’s Place, a hospice, in Wheeling.   Liza’s Place is a beautiful place, designed to be a warm and caring setting, allowing family and friends to be able to be with their loved ones in their last days.    

Today, Mom had more than a few visitors.   I knew most of folks that stopped by, but I didn’t necessarily know all of their stories.   I knew that my Mom had touched literally hundreds of lives, in very direct and meaningful ways, and thousands more indirectly, but it was so nice to hear some of the specifics.  As the day went on, there was reminiscing of my Mom as a member of large family in Parkersburg.  Days in her younger years, and the younger years of her kids meant family get togethers on farms, where we'd play in the barns, or on the tree swing until it got dark, and we would eat pickled corn and end the evening singing old gospel songs around an aunt’s organ.  There was talk of when she an Army Nurse Lieutenant . And of course how she was our Mom, including the many years she spent as a single mother of four after the death of our father.  There are many in Wheeling who continue to be so grateful for her love and care as she was a nurse and advocate for hundreds of children with disabilities in the Wheeling area.   And then one person referred to her as not only the chief cook of the Presbyterian Church in Wheeling, but also the “Pope” of the Presbyterian Church.   Just a few years ago she was serving on the General Counsel of the Presbyterian Church USA, serving the Church on a national level.   And then there were the years that she served as the Grand Worthy Matron of the Eastern Star.   In her room tonight, was not just her biological children, but also 2 other children, whom have considered her a mom for the past 35+ years.   And I’m not just talking about strong, kindred feelings, but I’m talking dinner and cards at Grace’s nearly every Saturday night for the past 35 years.   We spoke of other kids my Mom called her own.  There was the young man in Vienna who came to live with us as he finished High School in the area.   And there were many of our friends who surely spent more nights at our house then they did at their own homes, some times out of necessity.  At some point there was no need to ask if someone could spend the night – it was nearly expected that someone would be spending the night.   My Mom was available to any of our friends.  Then there were the 2 co-workers who needed a refuge and on each occasion she simply invited them to stay with us – not just for a few nights, but for months –or however long they needed a place to stay.  And then there was the friend from England who ended up staying with us for over 6 months and there was also the older woman, whom we met later in her life, that needed assisted living, had joined the gang on Saturday night, and then moved in with us in an effort to keep her out of a nursing home for as long as she could.   Our family really grew over the years.   Can you imagine the genealogy of such a family tree?   

I clearly remember when my wife Laura, joined our family.   We also met in the Army, in San Antonio, TX, where my parents met.  My mother didn’t meet Laura until my Mom flew out to Sacramento, CA for our wedding.   Almost immediately, my Mom would tell Laura that she loved her – that she was a part of our family.   Laura, in private, confided with me that she couldn’t understand how my Mom could say that she loved her – after all, she didn’t even know her.   I told Laura that it was real and that she would see.  Laura spent a long time being skeptical, but couldn’t maintain her skepticism forever.  Though she marveled at the reality, she could clearly see that when my Mom loved someone, she meant it.  It is real!  

It is in this understanding of who my Mom is that the loss is so enormous.  Yes, I understand that she will always be with me, but I know that there will still be a hit.  You see, as her friends visited, it also became clear the gift that she continued to give me – just by being who she is.   As her friends greeted me, I was Grace’s son – and that meant something.   The person that she has been to so many, without question, carried over to me – because I was her son.   It has always been clear that I have been the beneficiary of not only my mother’s direct love and care, but also I’ve benefited from her life and how it has been received by others.  I’ve received instant creditability, care and appreciation from people who knew her – because it was enough that I was Grace’s son.    

I think that inward yearning to research our ancestry is because we know that down deep we don’t only inherit our ancestor’s facial features or physical build, or even talents, but we also inherit a certain something of the soul.    

Mystic, Teresa of Avila writes in her book “Interior Castle”;  

“It is no small misfortune and disgrace that, through our own fault, we neither understand our nature nor our origin.  Would it not be gross ignorance if when a man was questioned about his name, or country, or person, he could not answer?  Stupid as this would be, it is unspeakably more foolish to care to learn nothing of our nature except that we possess bodies; and only to realize vaguely that we have souls, because people say so and it is a doctrine of faith.  Rarely do we reflect upon what gifts our souls may possess, who dwells within them, or how extremely precious they are.  Therefore we do little to preserve their beauty; all our care is concentrated on our bodies, which are but the coarse setting of the diamond, or the outer walls of the castle.” 

 

Thank you Mama, for everything you have been to me – I have been truly blessed.