Saturday, January 8, 2011

Aunt Ilse

Aunt Ilse and Dad:

I wouldn't have the job I have (and love) without her. I wouldn't have the love of simple, antiquated Victorian treasures, and I wouldn't still have the belief (even if during my adult years it's only slight) that dolls and teddy bears come to life when no one's there to see them, if I didn't have her in my life. I never knew her for the full woman that she was, only as my Aunt Ilse who loved me despite the time and space between visits, and who never let me leave her home without a dolly or bear under my arm.

I always felt so close to her, though never admitted it to anyone else in the family. She taught me how to write calligraphy, and with that, she helped me develop a skill and respect for lettering, which I now use everyday for a living. Through her avid doll and teddy bear collecting, she showed me that even if you have a rare and sought-after item, it's usually the most simple piece that is valued the most, even if it's by no one but yourself, because it has sentimental value. And from her I inherited the habit of constantly re-heating food because it starts to get too cool for your liking - I'm with you on that, Aunt Ilse.

As would be expected, I am sad to know that my Aunt Ilse is no longer with us - I have shed my tears. But I also feel a sense of peace, knowing that she is no longer suffering, no longer lost in a world within her mind that has long since abandoned her. She gets to be free from her ailing body, and I'm sure wherever she is, Uncle Hank is waiting for her with a hug and witty little joke.

My dolls and teddy bears have long been donated and sold at garage sales, except those she gave me (and a few others that hold sentimental value). And just like these precious toys that I will never part with, so too shall the love I have for her stay forever in my heart.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Another New Year Post

A new year.

A new day.

A new start.

What do I want to do?

More.

That is my New Year's resolution. More.

Every year I make specific resolutions, and by the end of the year some of those goals don't seem so important anymore. A lot can change in a year. Focus and priorities shift, and discoveries are made to make me reconsider what is important to me at that moment in time. As I let go of some of these resolutions, I get upset with myself, because I feel as though I am giving up or failing. I also hesitate to do something else, or set a different goal, because I feel I should stick to my original goals, for the principal of the matter. I hem and haw, hesitate and pause, and find that a year has gone by and I haven't done, seen, or been nearly enough that I wanted to do, see and be. So all I can say to myself is that whatever path I choose to take, whatever new plans I choose to make, and dreams I grab onto, I will do more with them. And if it all changes in a day, I will be okay, as long as I keep moving, and doing more.

I will do more.

I will love more.

I will be more.