A personal letter
by Elouise
Dear Blogging Friends,
I tried to put together a post for Sunday morning. Alas, it went nowhere except in circles! So I’m trying something totally different this week. A personal letter about personal stuff.
Today was our adult daughter’s last full day visiting us. Tomorrow she flies back to the West Coast. I’m teary, lethargic, achy, sad, and already lonely.
I’m also feeling the certainty of death these days. Nothing in particular. Just the awareness that every time I see our daughter it might be for the last time. So what do I want to say to her before she leaves?
I lay awake a bit last night thinking about this. Whatever I say, I don’t want to pretend I’m taking life for granted. As though neither of us is going to die just yet. I also don’t want to say simply, “I love you.” Even though I will and I do!
Here’s what I want her to know.
- I want you to know how honored I am to be your mother, and how much I admire you as a woman. You’re a fighter. A brook-no-nonsense human being. An artist in every way, especially as a musician.
- You’re an intelligent, gifted woman who knows how to engage others, and when to disengage. An astute political observer. A woman who knows how and when to get help. A survivor of trials and tribulations. A wise observer of human nature and of yourself. A faithful ally and friend.
- I’m grateful you’re in my life. You’re a touchstone. Sensible and funny. Kind and clear. And you’re my daughter! I still don’t understand how you became the woman you are today. I do know it was “through many dangers, toils and snares….”
- I gave you to God decades ago, knowing I would never have the answers to all the challenges you would meet. Instead, I pray for you regularly, that God’s grace that has kept you so far will lead you home. No matter whether you go first or I do.
One more thing. I feel old age coming on. Not like a flood, but with slow certainty, accompanied by a number of health issues that challenge me. I don’t want to give up. I want to be fully alive, and alert enough to enjoy my family and friends as long as I can.
Not so many years ago I was afraid to let my heart show to my family members. I was afraid to let them know how much I’ll miss them if they die before I die. Better to stay cool and calm than show my feelings. That way maybe the pain of loss won’t be so great. But that’s another topic.
Thanks for reading and listening with your hearts.
Elouise ♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 February 2017
Photo credit: DAFraser, 1974, Altadena, California
These thoughts and feelings are wonderful to share. Not only does your daughter know what you would like to share with her; she knows you shared them with many people as well. How cool! As for growing older – it is part of this broken life, but there are many beautiful moments along the way. Friday I had the opportunity to hear Blomstedt conduct the Philadelphia Orchestra in the Brahms 3rd. It was great! Blomstedt conducted sitting down – he will turn 90 in July. You never know what may be ahead – especially things that are more positive than you would have imagined.
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Thanks, Meg, for your comment, and for making the connection with the orchestra. Last night I told my daughter about this post. She had just come back from the Philadelphia Orchestra! Our son had taken her. I didn’t know the guest conductor’s age. What a gift to still be doing what he loves. And yes, we never know when our time on this earth will end.
Elouise
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That has to be extremely difficult as a parent. 😦
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So true. It’s also freeing. Being outspoken about things like this wasn’t encouraged by my parents. I think it was considered rude or, more likely, painfully morbid. So I was left wondering exactly what my parents felt toward me–especially after I became an adult. And especially if it was about how much they learned from me or looked up to me. They didn’t want me to be sinfully proud–thinking too highly of myself.
Thanks for the comment, Sean. 😊
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I completely understand that. It was my pleasure 😊
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Since I was first diagnosed with cancer (prostate) in 2005, I have expected to wakeup every morning to find I’m actually dead, and must admit that I’ve actually surprised myself on many occasions to find that I’m actually still alive.
Again, in 2015, when diagnosed with stomach cancer, I fully expected to die very soon thereafter. Have I mentioned my total gastrectomy 😀
Ever since then, I’ve lived with death constantly at my shoulder. It neither saddens me, excites or frightens me. The thought of dying never has frightened me.
The only thing that saddens me, now, is the dreadful world that I brought my children into; back in the 70’s & 80’s who would/ could have imagined what we would bequeath our children, grandchildren and their children after them.
I now fear for them, and what I brought them into and it saddens me for I know there is nothing I can do to stop the future, or be here to help and guide them.
Not that they’ve taken much notice of my guidance; they all consider themselves so much smarter and brighter than dear ol’ dad!
Still they’ll realize what they’ve missed out on soon enough.
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Hi Brian! Thanks for your comments about death. Yes, it’s constantly at our shoulders. I share your sadness about the world we’re leaving for our children, grandchildren, etc.
As for death, the most difficult part for me is the thought of leaving my family members behind. Not just because of the current situation in which we live, but because of ties that bind us and help us get through each day.
I can’t imagine you wouldn’t be sorely missed! If not for your wisdom or guidance about world affairs, certainly for your one-of-a-kind presence in their lives. 🙂
Elouise
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Only my dog will miss me, believe me, but it’s of no great moment for when I die everything dies with me. XD
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Then I reserve the right to be sad–even though you won’t be sad! 🙁
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I wont be anything, Louise and I forbid sadness!
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💐
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Elouise, I am so happy that you and David have had this special time to visit with Sherry.
Clay
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Thanks, Clay! I think our adult children help keep us young and connected to life. 🙂 We got back from the airport a little while ago. Hoping you have many opportunities to be with your adult children and their families. Diane would be proud!
Elouise
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another beautiful word gift to your daughter and the pondering of death and life too in it’s way. Death and taxes, the only things for sure i hear, but I like to think it would be an exciting new realm of life once we leave our old burdened bodies behind, slipping into the atmosphere to the angels we shall join ❤
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I want to be in the choir! How about you? Thanks for your kind comment. “An exciting new realm of life.” Precisely! 🙂
Elouise
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Oh, show your feelings, do!!! There is plenty of time for dignity and silence in other places and times. The times I regret, are those when I didn’t say, when I forgot and kept silent, when I assumed it would always be there. Then one day it wasn’t (she wasn’t, he wasn’t ….) and I fall back on the knowing that all is well in Heaven, but how I wish I had been more open. ((xxx))
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Yes. Precisely! Thanks, Fran. Assumptions are so fragile (or wrong!), and our feelings are incredibly important to pass along before it’s too late for this earth. I’m learning….:)
Elouise
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Hi, Elouise, I like your personal letter. It is beautiful and so is the picture. I can’t remember my password tonight and so am sending this to you instead. A lot is going on and I had a concussion a few weeks ago. I also leave for Africa on the 3rd of March through the 29th. Thank you for your ability to share your heart. Love, Anne
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Dear Anne,
I’m so sorry to hear about the concussion. I’m also happy you enjoyed the letter. What you’re doing in Africa takes a huge investment of wisdom and energy. I pray the gratitude of the children and families you touch will give you a bushel of joy! Hoping all goes well and that you’ll have opportunities to share your heart while you’re there. ❤
Love, Elouise 💕
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These are such touching words.. I’m glad you have had time with your daughter xx
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Thanks, Christy. A little island of fun and memories! 🏝
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