Aunt Moo
Isaac never met my Aunt Mary Lou. She knew he was on his way the last time I saw her and she humored my parents doing their grandparent picture thing, but she never got to meet I-man in person. We planned to go to see her and my two cousins and their families this August on our cross country trip to Ohio, but alas it wasn't soon enough.
Aunt Mary Lou has had a pretty profound influence on the direction of my life. I am not sure I even understood how much until she passed away on Saturday. Aunt Mary Lou, Aunt Moo to Monica and I, fought with mental illness her entire life. It was an anchor on her otherwise happy and giving spirit. She was the kind of person, even if she was worried about the next month's rent, would give money to the poor. She was always interested in how you were doing, not because it is polite to ask but because she genuinely wanted to know. I knew, even when I was a kid, that she was the very epitome of loving.
She also taught me the value of friends and family. I work as a Public Defender. I represent people that cannot afford an attorney in criminal proceedings and the vast, vast majority of my clients are touched by mental illness. Often times I wondered how someone ends up in a situation where they need my services and after nine years of work and a lifetime of watching Aunt Moo I realize it is family and friends. Her struggles provide me with a daily reminder that we need to see people through their mental illness instead of as their mental illness. It is a tough lesson to learn from people other than Aunt Moo. In her case, it was all you could do.
See, what she did not know, but everyone around her took as a basic assumption, is that her loving soul, her genuine care for others, endeared her to people in ways that create lifelong bonds of friendship, loyalty, and family. She helped people and in return, in her times of need, they helped her. She had demons but her friends and family circled around her and watched over as best they could. Without those people, most notably my cousins Libby and Sammy and my Dad, she would have had a much more difficult life. Her generosity, as it always does, created a feedback loop--she cared for people and they cared for her. You simply couldn't help yourself.
I wish she could have met Isaac so much. She would have laughed at his little crazy rambling speeches and hooted as he told her that she is his sweetheart. And then, as she would hug me goodbye, she would whisper in my ear "He is a special boy, be good to him, though I know you will." So don't wait. Call your mom or your sister. Email your son or brother. Send a text to your best friend. Remind them how important they are to you. Aunt Moo would.
Aunt Mary Lou has had a pretty profound influence on the direction of my life. I am not sure I even understood how much until she passed away on Saturday. Aunt Mary Lou, Aunt Moo to Monica and I, fought with mental illness her entire life. It was an anchor on her otherwise happy and giving spirit. She was the kind of person, even if she was worried about the next month's rent, would give money to the poor. She was always interested in how you were doing, not because it is polite to ask but because she genuinely wanted to know. I knew, even when I was a kid, that she was the very epitome of loving.
She also taught me the value of friends and family. I work as a Public Defender. I represent people that cannot afford an attorney in criminal proceedings and the vast, vast majority of my clients are touched by mental illness. Often times I wondered how someone ends up in a situation where they need my services and after nine years of work and a lifetime of watching Aunt Moo I realize it is family and friends. Her struggles provide me with a daily reminder that we need to see people through their mental illness instead of as their mental illness. It is a tough lesson to learn from people other than Aunt Moo. In her case, it was all you could do.
See, what she did not know, but everyone around her took as a basic assumption, is that her loving soul, her genuine care for others, endeared her to people in ways that create lifelong bonds of friendship, loyalty, and family. She helped people and in return, in her times of need, they helped her. She had demons but her friends and family circled around her and watched over as best they could. Without those people, most notably my cousins Libby and Sammy and my Dad, she would have had a much more difficult life. Her generosity, as it always does, created a feedback loop--she cared for people and they cared for her. You simply couldn't help yourself.
I wish she could have met Isaac so much. She would have laughed at his little crazy rambling speeches and hooted as he told her that she is his sweetheart. And then, as she would hug me goodbye, she would whisper in my ear "He is a special boy, be good to him, though I know you will." So don't wait. Call your mom or your sister. Email your son or brother. Send a text to your best friend. Remind them how important they are to you. Aunt Moo would.