living up to my name

The funny thing about life is that it couldn't exist without death. If there wasn't an opposite to living, life as we know it would cease to be. Death has to exist. Sometimes it's ugly and cruel and sometimes it's a blessing. Last October my grandmother passed away. This October my grandmother passed away. Same month, same event, different person. My mom called me tonight at 924 and the moment I heard her voice I knew something was wrong. By 925 life as I knew it was changed. Only a minutes difference but a world of change. I lost my last living grandmother, my mom lost her mom and best friend, my grandfather lost a wife and his caretaker... the world lost a wonderfully giving woman. The thing about my grandma was that she never gave up on people... she never once failed to forgive and give you your second, third or one hundreth chance. (hmmm, sounds familiar!) And she'd go above and beyond and out of her way to help the ones she loved. Christian, southern to the core, hardworking, kind, tough, and with a heart of gold. I carry her name with me too. I sorta like that my parents gave me the privilage of being able to carry a bit of both of my grandmothers around with me. Elizabeth May and the May was hers... and as I result I carry the name proudly. I might never live up to the names I was given but I kinda feel the responsibilty to try atleast for my late grandmothers' sake. (That was a plural grandmothers by the way.) I've experienced a lot of changes in my life lately... but that's what life is all about... inspite of all of it's changes and difficulties I feel blessed to even still have this fragile existance known as life. My grandmother doesn't. Her time here is thru. I for one think that she served her time well. She lived a life worth something. She always seemed to be trying to make life better for everyone else around her. A life lived for others... it's such a selfless concept... but she was a selfless woman. So in a way bits and pieces of her will live on...she'll live on in the lives of the people that she helped... as a result it's now our job to live a life that would make her proud. (Different post but same theme.) I can only hope that I'm up to the challenge of living a life such as that. A life of substance. A life that means something. My grandmothers have certainly left me with big shoes to fill... here's to hoping I can live up to their names.