Klowns in my Koffee

Daily Kup (My Life Filled with Gratitude)
A dear lady in our extended family will be 102 on March 15. I haven't seen her very much in the last few years as she is in that part of the family related through my older daughter's father, my ex-husband.

When families realign through changing relationships and circumstances, it is sadly common that peripheral ties are stretched or dissolved. Tongue-in-cheek, families line up along "the fault line" either intentionally, or more often, through the desire to avoid creating real or potential hurt feelings.

How many times have you heard of the person who remembers of an influential teacher and tracks him or her down to express gratitude after thirty years? In some of the stories, the teacher has been waiting for years to hear a single word of appreciation. There is a heartfelt reunion and tears all around. In other stories, the statement of gratitude arrives on the day of the funeral or twenty years too late.

Less dramatic, the average person simply never gets around to doing anything but feeling a pang of guilt.

For the last several years, I've been wanting to tell this particular centenarian how much I admired her courage, her graciousness, her humanity and her common sense. She has lived a life surrounded by music, friends, and hobbies. She lost a son to an improbable and tragic childhood accident. She became a widow over 50 years ago. I'm sure that life wasn't easy for her but she has always managed to keep the ups and downs in perspective.

I kept her company one day years ago as we stood on the road next to a cemetery plot as a monolithic family tombstone was installed on a bitterly cold day. She said that the last day that she had been in a cemetery was when her husband was buried and she didn't intend to go back again until someone was burying her. We watched the installation from a distance and got back in the car.

A piano teacher and accomplished musician, she made a goal to play three Chopin concerts last in life and accomplished this feat in her early nineties.

I've thought of her frequently over the last few years but didn't take the steps to send a card or make a visit. "Oh, well. I've been busy. I'll do it next year." At advanced ages, it's easy to imagine that the next year may be too late.

I checked my file of birthday cards and found one that I had purchased in purple, her favorite color, and had neglected to send fifteen years ago. It was easy and satisfying to add a sincere note of gratitude and admiration. Princess Potatohead and I visited the retirement facility and left the card in good hands to be shared at the birthday party.

Next, there are five or six teachers ...