I just read brother Jim's last blog postings and it so reminded me of a book I just started reading, Kitchen Table Wisdom, by Rachel Remen. This book serves as a powerful reminder that we are the stories that we tell. The best stories used to be told around the kitchen table. How many of us, as children, sat and listened to Aunts, Uncles, neighbors, and parents tell stories of their recent day, or embellishing a story of the past. I am learning that each story defines who we are, not what we have acquired or achieved.
During the past week I have needed the wisdom of this book to help with my grief, my sadness, and my sense of missing Barbara. It has helped me to see that the night Barbara died, her bedside became the 'Kitchen Table' - while she was still with us we all sat around her and told story after story. Sometimes she would join in and other times she would just smile or laugh out loud. After she was gone, we couldn't leave that 'kitchen table' - we all remained for hours around the bed and told story, after story, sometimes crying and sometimes laughing. I look back now and realize what a precious time that will always be for me. It's amazing how the ordinary events of our lives, told over and over again at the kitchen table, become the wisdom for defining us to the next generation.
How I wish we were all living in houses in a row - like at Angel Cove Cottages for our reunion years ago. I could stoll down the lane and visit each house - sit for awhile at each kitchen table and talk story as they say in Hawaii. I feel an emmense need to share stories of Barbara, that this will somehow ease the sadness of missing her - a sadness that Elizabeth so aptly described this morning as "a big hole".
Barbara's last words to me were "I love you too Sis" - I guess that just about says it all for right now.