Lucky me. I get to run in a lot of different circles. The desk calendar that hangs behind my computer is a patchwork of colors and circles and arrows and Post-Its. In three different sizes. Gasp…
One recent Tuesday I aim my car south because my calendar says “Scholarship Reception.” This is one “circle” that is brand new for me. I land at The Japanese Garden on the campus of California State University, Long Beach. For years my father-in-law Jack was a vice-president there and my mother-in-law Connie immersed herself in everything CSULB. She attended the basketball games, theater productions and helped co-found “Women in Philanthropy” which offers scholarships to deserving students. The staff, the students, the community of people who work together to make Cal State Long Beach such a warm and collaborative institution, all of this was the centerpiece of their lives. Connie passed away a few years ago and we lost Jack last winter.
So this year their long-time presence and contributions are being honored with a special scholarship in Connie’s name. I am here to represent the family. The family I married into. Connie was the “good mother” to me, but I didn’t realize it, like in my belly, until she was gone. Why does that happen? That so much of our real connection with each other is obscured in the petty details of the moment that it seems we can only grasp the truth in retrospect? What a great big bummer that is…
Folks gather under the tent, perch at the round tables where I meet some of Connie’s friends and Jack’s colleagues. I munch on the spring rolls and marvel at the whole gestalt of it all. A very lovely woman, Jeanette, who will earn her degree in Management Information Systems this year, is Connie’s Memorial Scholarship winner. She works in the “real world” while attending college and values the education she is receiving because nothing has come easy for her. I get to witness the power of “legacy” before my very eyes. If Connie was here, she’d be all aglow.
It’s interesting, the way we talk about “gifts.” As if a gift is a thing. A commodity. Like someone has a “gift” to write a poem or a song or paint a picture that makes you feel something. To grow a garden or a good kid or a new business. To bring out the best in others or to cook a perfect soufflé, to discover a new planet or medicine that cures the awful disease.
Of course what “we do” is important, but “what we are” is the true gift. I keep these wise words of author Natalie Goldberg at the ready, not far from my crazy calendar:
“Whether we know it or not, we transmit the presence of everyone we have ever known, as though by being in each other’s presence we exchange our cells, pass on some of our life force, and then we go on carrying that other person in our body, not unlike springtime when certain plants in fields we walk through attach their seeds in the form of small burrs to our socks, our pants, our caps, as if to say, “Go on, take us with you, carry us to root in another place.” This is how we survive long after we are dead. This is why it is important who we become, because we pass it on.”
Cali
Thank you Sandra! Ah, the mystery of it all–oneness expressed in infinite variety…
Cali
Your writing was beautiful and eloquent and I always love reading what you are kind enough to share. I loved the quote but would like to extrapolate just a bit, as I believe that we also carry something of everyone who has ever been on the planet since the very beginning until now, whether we’ve personally come into contact with these people or not. My reasoning is that this is a self-contained world where everything is recycled. The water we’re drinking goes back to the beginning of time. It’s not shipped in from some other planet, same stuff we started with — so, everything on the planet from the beginning of time continues to have an influence today. Oh, lordy, when I get this philosophical I know it’s time for chocolate so will close now and go feed my face. Have a great weekend!
Sandra C.
Grace Godlin
I was moved by this tribute to your mother-in-law, her powerful legacy, and your regret about not grasping how important she was in your life until she was gone. I have similar regrets about taking loved ones for granted in the shortness of life. Writing is one way of keeping them alive and honoring them.
Your quote reminded me that Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones was one of the most inspirational books about writing I’ve ever read.
Thanks for your patience in teaching me how to play the uke. I thought that skill was beyond me because I lacked any musical training. Now I’m having so much fun with this little, non-threatening, instrument.
Grace
Cali
Thank you so much Grace. Yes I love Natalie Goldberg’s “Writing Down the Bones” too. But I’m especially thrilled that you are loving the ukulele and letting it sweep you into the world of music and joy. This makes me SO happy.
Donna
Hi, Cali!
It was so nice to hear from you. It made me realize how much I’ve
missed coming to class, and seeing you. I plan to come back soon!
I am getting low on endorphins! 😉
Your Loyal Student,
Donna
Cali
Thank you Donna and hurry back to our little oasis of endorphin heaven!