What is a Life?
When my sister died a few years ago, I wrote a poem titled “What Is A Life”. That question comes again today after yesterday. Yesterday was the day where Bob and I had driven over 1200 miles in three days from Indianapolis to Kerrville, Texas. It was the day his daughter and son-in-law flew to San Antonio from Chicago, Illinois. And it was the day his son flew from Salt Lake City, Utah, to Austin, Texas.
It was the day that the five of us met in the Hill Country of Texas and drove to Bushwack Creek, finding a spot along it that was peaceful, green, and reminiscent of the place Bob jumped off the ledge into the creek about 65 years ago enjoying that day with his brother Ralph and cousin Woody.
Although it has changed, it has remained somewhat the same. No huge developments. No strip malls. No fast-paced life. Lush live oak trees covered in Old Man’s Beard dropping their acorns. The water beyond the little dams gliding gently down the creek bed. The wind taking life along with it. The life of Grandma Bunny as everyone referred to her.
It was the day to spread her ashes that had been contained in that box for almost 15 years. I read somewhere that no matter what we weigh in life, we all weigh about 5 – 6 pounds in death when cremated. Interesting, as so many of us are consumed by our weight in life, yet death levels that playing field as it does in so many other ways.
Although Grandma Bunny and I shared the same first name, I never met her; but I believe I would have loved her as I love her oldest son. Did he receive his spirit of fierce love and devotion for those he loves from her? Did he receive his intense desire to instill in others the aspiration to be all that they can be from her? Did he receive his deep sense of patriotism from her? If Bob has your back, no one can get by him to hurt you. He will build you up 100 times over the one who tries to tear you down. He is fierce, determined, and loyal if he loves you. Did he get that spirit from Grandma Bunny whose spirit glided in the breeze yesterday?
We toasted to her life with her favorite: RC Cola. There were Moon Pies as well since many country singers touted the relationship between RC and Moon Pies. Stories were told of her piles of books as she was a voracious reader, of the many Westerns she watched and could tell if the hero was truly riding the horse or not by the way he moved in the saddle, of the letters she wrote and the newspaper clippings included in them, and of her dedication to her oldest son making sure he had visitors at a time when he needed them.
As we walked away from the river, there was a small, yellow flower that I have pictured here. When I pointed it out to Bob, he plucked it from the ground and put it into Grandma Bunny’s box. Later he told me that flower symbolized her spirit - free and moving over the land she felt was home. She liked yellow flowers which is apropos with the song “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”
What is a life? This life of Grandma Bunny? I caught a glimpse of her life yesterday through stories, actions, and her spirit. That was an honor. Again, I reiterate that life, and death, is all about relationships which are born out through stories. Keep listening and asking for those stories. One phrase I like to use, I learned from Aaron’s kindergarten teacher, “Tell me about that.” What you hear will enrich your life beyond measure.
