When I was young and living in the small town of Wabash, Indiana I used to dream of different ways to become famous. During mass I often fantasized a record producer would, for some unknown reason, be in my church, hear my voice and offer me a contract. Or, I would dream a modeling agency would see me as I vacationed with my family and rush over to tell me I would be the next big thing on the cover of Seventeen Magazine. Even though I spent many years with these images in my head those events never took place. Instead, I went to college, graduated, found a job, got married and began the life I lead now.
It has only been recently that I remembered those long ago dreams and realized it is very unlikely my face will grace the cover of a fashion magazine or my singing voice be heard across the airwaves. I’m okay with this reality because I understand if I truly wanted those goals to happen I would have worked a little harder at accomplishing them. With this realization however, I wondered, have I made my mark on this world? When I’m gone will I have left a legacy? After some consideration I recognized leaving my mark does not require me to be famous. Keeping that in mind, I settled on a list of lasting qualities, I believe, I have managed to accomplish.
I have been a good daughter. While growing up I never caused my parents much concern. In turn they gifted me with their love, a comforting home, siblings to have and cherish my entire life and a college education. As an adult I welcomed my parents into my home. I enjoyed their company and we shared some great meals, laughter and many adventures when they graced my doorstep. For six years as my mother slid into dementia, I comforted and counseled her, fought her medical battles, sat through doctor appointments, made more than one run to the emergency room and, fought my own guilt feelings of inadequacy. Finally, on the day she died I held my mother’s hand and read to her the poems she recited to my siblings and me, and sang to her the songs that brightened our childhood days.
Friendship may be one of my strong suits. I love that shared intimacy. And, nothing seals a bond of camaraderie like the struggle of raising children. Many reassuring conversations took place during the frustrations and joys of raising children. I have been there through health scares, holding hands, sending cards and making phone calls to check in. I have consoled woman friends through the everyday difficulties of marriage and they have returned that favor to me. Most difficult of all I have been with my friend as she fought to keep her husband alive, then, in the end, as she graced him with her love and the permission to leave this earth.
Together my husband and I have created and raised two amazing daughters. They are kind to others, responsible for themselves, fun to be with, gifted with creativity, athletic and smart. As parents we gave our daughter many material items. When they were very young it was toys, dolls and stuffed animals. As they grew it became sports equipment, namely downhill skis. We offered opportunities to try new adventures. We bought a boat and took them tubing, cliff jumping and island camping on Lake George in the Adirondacks. All of those material presents brought the most important gift of all; a family. We formed a bond as we traveled for ski races, or huddled together in a small tent to avoid a storm on Turtle Island. We grew as a family having fun together, sharing dinners, laughing, arguing; just spending time with one another.
With this inventory I have concluded my legacy is one of kindness, love, fun, support and a future generation. Consequently, I think my daughters and our family are far more of a mark to leave on this earth than my past dreams of being famous.
children
The End of an Anticipated Dream
The last time I wrote I mentioned my collection of quotes. This past weekend I was reminded of yet another passage I try to refer to often.
Don’t cry because it is over. Smile because it happened.
Dr. Seuss
With the arrival of warm temperatures snow skiing has come to an end. There are some who will find a sunny spring day to glide down slushy slopes and one last time end their runs with a much anticipated beer on the deck. But, I have finished for the season. Over the weekend, my husband and I packed up all of the belongings we had managed to drag up north and moved them from our rental. As I emptied over-flowing cupboards, filled with the generosity of visiting friends, and stuffed suitcases stretched tight against their zippers, my thoughts returned to my anxious greed in December to move into this winter haven.
The idea to return to weekends spent skiing full time at Gore Mountain and enjoying all of our winter time friends came to me as I talked with two of my sisters about our very small inheritance. Our mother had recently passed away from her long slide into the nothingness of dementia. We felt the money was a gift and should be put to use in a way that would honor both our mother and father. We were in awe at the financial ingenuity of our parents, a teacher and insurance salesman. How had they managed to raise, feed, clothe and then send seven children to college and still have enough left for Mom to be well taken care of at the end of her life?
As ideas were thrown around I came to my conclusion. Sitting on a screened in porch on July third, overlooking a lake in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, it was difficult to imagine the following winter. Yet, I could feel the tingle of frost as I formulated my plan. I knew it was very likely during the winter of 2012-13 my daughters would be living near or with my husband and me, an opportunity that may not happen again, at least for some years to come. Our girls are young adults, in their early twenties. The notion of them both ending up living in upstate New York is a farfetched dream. I did know however, they would spend time with their parents, at least for a few months, if I enticed them with the lifestyle they grew up loving: skiing every weekend during the winter.
As my idea brewed in my head, I also imagined a writer’s retreat for my group, where we could spend time doing what we all love, putting our thoughts down on paper. Along with that, weekends of fun and laughter crowded my mental image. With the rental, the friends I so adore and cherish would once again have a place to gather. This spot would be an inviting sanctuary to ignore the painful truths of our lives and lose ourselves in raunchy jokes, good food, great adult beverages and the comforting companionship of dear friends.
The winter months went by, as you can guess, all too quickly. One day it was time for the first run, the next, the annual end of the year slush cup. When the car was packed, I wandered one last time through the living room of the chalet, turning off the gas fireplace and locking the doors. Through tear-filled eyes I saw the smiles and I heard the laughter. I smelled the candles as they were blown out on my daughter’s birthday cake. I saw the realization of joy in my husband’s face when we surprised him with a family, plus two boyfriends, dinner at his favorite restaurant. I heard the giggles of young adults echo throughout the loft and saw, once again, their card games at the big dining table. I sensed the sound of clinking wine glasses raised in salute during the many toasts that took place as we gathered to share our meals. I knew then, as I heard the door lock one last time, my intuition had been correct. Renting a home in the Adirondacks was a true celebration of my parent’s gift.
I smiled, because I made it happen.
Rosemary Christle-Renaud 