Legacy

I love this photo. No, I did not take this photo. In fact, I'm not sure who took it. But if you look close enough, you can see my own legacy forming. Brewing, at work, deep within the heart of a woman you would never think twice about. That's her, all the way on the right-hand side, eating a banana. Her name was Pauline Scranton Bedford, and she was my grandmother.

I don't know much about her younger days. I can't imagine her life in 1942, which is, I assume, the year this photo was taken. Look closely at the license plate and you will see. I know her and my grandfather married in July of 1940, two young kids madly in love. She was working as a nurse in those days. I like to imagine her a bit like me, someone who loved her husband, loved her life, loved her family and friends to no end. I don't know the other three people in the photo. I'd like to think they were people who meant the world to her.

The woman I knew was just "Gramma". The one who took care of me one summer afternoon when I had the flu and puked all over her feet and kitchen floor. She was the one who made the grandest chicken and noodles. She was a hard-core liberal who, in her last days, hallucinated that republicans were running through her hospital room. I know I inherited those long legs from her. Her hazel eyes. Her extreme loathing of conservatives. She was a wonderful lady, who I wish I had the chance of really knowing as a person, not just as my paternal grandmother.

She died in the winter of 2000. I remember it vividly. I remember what happened that week. She passed, then I got the flu two days later, and a week after that, I was in a car accident. They always happen in threes, right? My grandfather, Harold, lived for another 2 1/2 years, until he passed away in late July of 2002. After he passed, I sat with my Dad and Cathy in Harold and Pauline's house in Rock Island, going through old boxes of clothes, knick knacks, stuff. We found a box of pictures on the top shelf of her closet. Inside were thousands of pictures she had saved. Among them, was this. She had also saved baby pictures of all her grandkids (all 7 of us), her own kids, pictures they had taken, she had taken. She had even saved a family photo of me, my Mom and my dad before the divorce. I took a pile and, of course, still have them in my own picture box.

Over the two and a half week break, I thought much about my life. I am going to be 30 in less than a year. Had I become so cynical, bitter, jaded about life that I was just going to let my youth pass me by? When I was younger, I used to believe that everything was pre-destined. That fate had it's hands over all, controlling each and every decision we make. I was happy to let things come to me, to tempt fate, to wait for all good to release itself into my existence. And, as fate would have it, that didn't happen. My open, eager, young heart waited for things to happen to me, when I should have been happening to things. It isn't destiny, or fate, or written in the stars. It is up to us to make things happen. Our indecision is what frustrates us the most, not waiting for good things to befall us. Why couldn't I see this before? I knew I had to allow my journey on this road wind until I realized it myself: I am in charge of me. I have the power.

In the autumn, if you recall, I had a run-in with my own Divine Feminine. She spoke to me, telling me that something was waiting... I just needed to climb out of the spider-web, feed my inner-female, and it would appear. I waited. And waited. And wondered if she would ever appear again. She finally made an appearance over our trip home. She told me that I am ready, and to make a choice. It might feel scary, or too soon, but it isn't. She told me to trust myself. And I did.

I look at this photo of Gramma and I wonder what her inner-female said to her. What kind of life did she have? What kind of life did she want to have? How did her children see her? Know her? What kind of lessons could she give me? What was her legacy?

I made the decision that I didn't want to question myself anymore. I made a list of things I wanted to do. You saw most of them in my Year in Review post. And I realized I didn't want to be a Gramma whose grandchildren didn't know as a woman. For me, that meant getting rid of all the shit that bogs me down. That, in particular, was Kidsclub. While I love Kristin, and the children, I realized to be able to accomplish certain things, I will need time. Quite frankly, I think I can live without the extra $300 dollars a month to be able to have a quality of life I am comfortable with.

While you may see it as a small, part-time job, to me, it's what it signifies. I made a choice to take back my life. I gave myself the power to allow my own creativity to flow, and that feels wonderful.

So friends, I hereby declare today, January 8th, to be "Take Back your Life Day". It will go down in the annals of history as the day all women (and men) should make choices that allow themselves to feel strong, independant and powerful.

And I have to say, yes, I am scared to death.

I am also deliciously thrilled.