She was 88 years old. I liked what the priest (Anglican, I think) said, "She had a complete life."
How lovely I thought as I sat there. A complete life. Not an easy life certainly, no, not that, but it was a complete one.
Born with mental challenges due to her mother having German Measles while pregnant, she grew up to be a feisty young lady. Aunt M took care of her younger sister, I., while her middle sister G was in Sick Kids Hospital, with Chronic Nephritis (a type of kidney disease).
Her parents would be down at the hospital for days on end caring for G, and Aunt M would be at home caring for baby I. Tragically G died at 17 years of age.
This death left a mark on their family. Baby I, catered to and spoiled (due to the emphasis and time given to G), grew up to be cheery and full of personality but exceedingly self-absorbed. Aunt M, with extra responsibilities when so young grew up to be very orderly, scheduled, with routine carved into her psyche.
Aunt M married and had three children. She worked hard, devoted her life to her children. She had a reputation for humor and for the "gift of the gab." Aunt M outlived her husband by 19 years. She lived independently into her early eighties, an amazing feat if you ask me. Sometimes, because of her disabilities she was taken advantage of, even ignored. This I am sure was not easy to take. Nevertheless she carried on.
Finally, her waning days were spent in a Nursing Home in Peterborough, where she passed away.
It was moving to see hubby and his sister grieve their Aunt. Asked to speak only minutes before the service, hubby did a lovely job of paying tribute to his Aunt.
Last week death paid a visit to my side of the family, my cousin, he died at 55 years of age; decades away from old age.
Today, as I have been reflecting on these two losses, I was drawn again to the priest's words, "a complete life." Could it be possible to live a "complete life," in the years say, that my cousin, S, was given???
Now, seriously, I've already shared with you how much death often repels me. It seems shockingly more so when those who are very young, teenagers or young adults and even middle-aged as S was, are robbed of living to what is called a "ripe old age;" but somehow this thought of living a "complete life" intrigues me.
Here's what I am thinking - maybe I need to live a "complete life" every day? One of the dictionary definitions of complete, goes like this - "thorough; entire; total; undivided, uncompromised."
Do I live this day thoroughly, entirely, paying, as best I can, undivided attention to each moment?
Do I live it uncompromisingly, and by that I mean without reservation - without holding back, without staying in the corner and looking on, merely being a spectator of life and not one who lives it fully and completely?
To live completely, I am thinking, means to accept all that accompanies each day - the joys, the laughter, the pain, the challenges, the sorrows. Live each moment, completely, with all it holds, because tomorrow doesn't always come.
None of us knows the number of our days.
So this is my lesson learned, the take home from these passings, the reminder, yet again, to live each day, bask in it, treasure it.
Each day is a gift.
Live each day, completely.
Live a "complete life."
Dictionary definitions from Dictionary.com.
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