To Everything…Turn, Turn, Turn
Today my Aunt Harriet would have been 93 years old. Sadly she passed away two weeks shy of that birthday. And equally sad I wasn’t able to attend the funeral because of the continuing issues surrounding the COVID pandemic.
Trust me, nothing usually stops me from being at any life cycle event, but given the fact that our country still has not collectively figured out how to contain the virus, the graveside funeral was limited to the very immediate family in Nashville. I felt so bad for my father who wasn’t able to attend even though he would have normally made the drive from Detroit without blinking an eye. These are very sad and strange times for sure.
The night before my father received the call from my oldest cousin that Harriet was nearing the end I actually had a dream about her. She was with my Uncle who passed away over 20 years ago and he was telling her how much he missed her.
And then I woke up.
I initially thought it was my subconscious’ way of reminding me that her birthday was coming up and to mail a card and be sure to schedule a time on my calendar to call. But, as my mother always said, “ya gotta believe” the dream was more than just a dream. It was an “in your face” reminder of how little we understand about life and death and the role our minds and subconscious play in preparing us for what we are going to wake up to every day.
Sitting here right now a few weeks later I still get goosebumps thinking about the timing of the dream. She was my father’s only sibling and since my mother was an only child it essentially means I no longer have any relatives of that generation other than my father still alive. Her three children are my only first cousins, but they are a decade or more older than me so growing up the age difference was significant.
While I spent my formative years in the Detroit area, they were in Nashville, so the amount of time we were able to really spend together was limited to one or two times a year when we would pile into the family station wagon and make the 8 or 9 hour drive to spend a long weekend having chicken and biscuits at the infamous The Loveless Cafe and devouring Goo Goo Clusters, a local confection that you could only get in Nashville at that time. Back then they had just one version, but now it seems they have expanded their line significantly including designing your own? Hmmm…I think I know what I am getting my father for his birthday this year.
But I digress…
“My Boys”, as my Aunt always referred to them, are the oldest and middle and I remember them giving me piggyback rides and just being goofy, roughhousing teenagers. The youngest? I used to watch her put on makeup and get ready for a date while introducing me to music that soon became the soundtrack for my childhood. It was in her bedroom that I first heard Carole King’s Tapestry album when it was released in 1971. I couldn’t wait to buy it when I got home after that particular trip, but had to save my allowance for months. Hey, a quarter may have seemed like a lot of money to a 9 year old every week if used to buy penny candy at the drugstore when there really was penny candy, but it took 4 months to have enough to make the $3.99 purchase at Harmony House, our local record store back in the day.
Anyway, as my cousins entered their adult lives and settled into marriage raising their own kids and I was in the midst of my teenage and college years along with my siblings, the opportunities to see each other really narrowed down to weddings, funerals and other life cycle events. I don’t remember when my Aunt stopped traveling for these events, but it was sometime after my mother passed away in 2005 so over the next 10 years I think I only saw her once or twice.
The last time was in September 2016 just about a week after her 89th birthday. I had decided to take the northern route from Florida through Nashville on my way to my new life in Colorado and was able to spend a few hours with her before starting the second day of my cross country drive. I think a part of me thought it was potentially the last opportunity I would get to see her; I guess I was right. But sitting there that day, she hardly looked or acted her age. And she was sharp as a tack and as snarky as ever, an attribute I am certain I inherited from her.
She had been a widow at that point for over 20 years and to the best of my knowledge she never once considered dating or remarrying. I was fresh out of my second marriage and her advice to me regarding men as I was about to start a whole new life in a new state and for the first time in my adult life living truly alone (with the exception of my dog at the time) was her telling me to embrace being alone. And since that day whenever I would speak to her she always asked, “Any men in your life?” And when I would say no or none of importance she would respond “That’s good.”
She was right…it has been good. I am happy and healthy and enjoying this time in my life and letting the chips fall where they may.
Unfortunately I had not spoken to her since her last birthday. I don’t know why…I certainly had enough time during stay at home orders this past spring. I did, though, get updates from my father and it seemed like one was relatively recent when he said she was doing ok.
And then she wasn’t.
And a few days later I “attended” the funeral via Zoom, but in my true Rocky Mountain life fashion, I watched/listened while hiking up Mt. Crested Butte where I happen to be for the weekend. The weather had been rather cold and rainy the two previous days so as soon as the sun was up on that Sunday I was on the trail with one of my friends, but with the intention of trying to get back down to the base before the service.
Easier said than done when it was so beautiful that morning and I really wanted to climb all the way to the summit at a mere 12,162 feet elevation but clearly with questionable cell phone reception. So I crossed my fingers and toes hoping that I would not lose the signal as we continued our ascent.
And just as the service was about to end with the Kaddish (mourner’s prayer), I put my phone on speaker and had my friend stop to not only say it with me as it happened to be the anniversary of her father’s passing, but also to take in this spectacular view…
When the prayer was over, I turned to my friend and with tears in both of our eyes, we hugged one another. It was the first time I had hugged anyone since COVID took away our ability to be less than 6 feet from each other.
In that moment it was just what needed to be done.
Also in that moment, I was transported right back to my cousin’s bedroom and the words of The Bryds classic song Turn! Turn! Turn! immediately came to mind…
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
Rest in peace Aunt Harriet…the seasons of your life may be over but your time turning through them year after year definitely had a purpose. You’ve left behind children, grandchildren and great grandchildren who will make sure your memory is and always will be a blessing.
P.S. Say hi to Uncle Reynold for me 💗
