Making Meaning of our Lives — Styles of Two Grand Old Ladies!!
I recently read a statement by John Gardner (Former US Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare) in an article. Take a moment and think of this statement, ‘the art of making rather than finding meaning (in life).’
Powerful! Verbs can make the matter explicit and sometimes dramatic. ‘Making meaning’ — intrinsic and my choice. ‘Finding meaning’ — extrinsic and dependent upon others and situations, and my state of mind and emotions.
‘The art of making meaning!’ It is an art and certainly does not just happen. It is something that one thinks about, ponders on, introspects about on a continuous basis. The product of these thoughts forms the building blocks in making meaning in life. What are these building blocks?
I am reminded of a thought that I heard many years ago and often use as a motivational reflection in my workshops for parents and teachers:
‘You and I can count the number of seeds in an apple.
But only God knows how many apples there are in a seed.’
Mind boggling!!
My interpretation is that ‘who I am’ can go back generations as I carry the values within me that have been passed on from generation to generation.
But I cannot be satisfied with that. I have to do more.
I have to make the choice to redefine, chisel and relook at many of the values, using my God given gifts, my understanding, my experiences, my beliefs. The choices I make, to make me who I am will add meaning to my life.
Now that sounds pretty self-centred and selfish. Adding meaning to my life should be ‘other-centred’. In the words of Simone de Beauvoir — ‘One’s life has value so long as one attributes value to the life of others, by means of love, friendship, indignation, compassion.’
This poem by Edwin C Roworth, perhaps shows us the way.
‘Life that true contentment brings,
Is just the sum of little things,
A cheery smile at start of day,
A kindly word along the way,
A helpful hand in time of need,
A moment for an unselfish deed,
A message to an absent friend,
A consoling thought when some life ends.
’Tis not great deeds from which hope springs.
But just the sum of little things.’
Let me introduce you to two wonderful people who passed away within 10 days of each other.
This is not a eulogy. My purpose is to share glimpses of their lives in that they made choices to make meaning in their lives.
One was my aunt and Godmother — Celine Rebello. She passed away a few months short of her 100th birthday.
The other, hubby’s first cousin — Dorothy Rebello (coincidence — they are not related to each other) who was 97 years when she breathed her last.
I lived in Mangalore with my Uncle, Aunt and 7 Cousins while doing my graduation. My strongest memories of Aunty Celine are of that period of time when she was in her early 50’s and I was a teenager — a young adult.
On the other hand, I came to know Dotty Bai closely when she was in her 80’s. She could not tolerate the Delhi winter and came south and spent a month each in her 3 cousins’ homes. So I knew her in her old age.
Two ladies — different and yet similar. They were of different backgrounds. Both knew the art of making meaning of life. Both knew how to make life meaningful for others.
Let me start with Aunty Celine. I was welcomed into her home with warmth — incidentally I was not the first niece or nephew to make her home our home. Not for a day did I feel any sort of differentiation between her own children and me. She was quietly generous and quietly charitable in so many different ways and with so many different people. We got to see this at her funeral — shared by those who benefitted. Looking back, I never saw her stressed and so I really didn’t know the secret of how she managed the home seamlessly. She loved to feed us; I remember her coming to the common study room with ‘fat baker’s biscuits with thick slices of cheese’. I probably started putting on weight then!!
Aunty took the risk and the responsibility of my tonsillitis surgery without my parents being around. She took care of me. Another time was when I got chicken pox during my Final Year examinations. Aunty made all arrangements with the College Principal for me to be able to appear for the exam in a separate room.
She tried her hand at cutting my huge mop of curly hair — I think she found joy in trying out something new.
She was a great sport and had an enjoyable sense of humour. I often took the liberty of tickling her; such was the relationship we had. She loved gardening and took pride in her plants. And on a quiet afternoon she would be found with needle and thread embroidering a gift for someone’s birthday.
She faced tragedy with courage when she lost her second son in a drowning accident, and yet her home was my wedding house just 20 days later.
Her faith in God and prayer was her bedrock.
Let me move on to Dorothy Rebello, Dotty Bai, Aunty Dotty, Aunty Naughty.
She had a zest for learning — Age did not matter. She wanted to be in on it, whether it was chocolate making, a recipe or a new design for embroidery.
She enjoyed stitching. All of us relatives kept things ready for her to stitch, repair or change its avatar.
In later years, with failing eyesight, she turned to cross stitch — Altar cloths, curtains, pillow cases, cushion covers were gifted to churches and to many of our homes.
Dotty Bai had many passions — cricket being one of them. She never missed watching a match if she could help it. She would read the newspaper cover to cover, and was up to date on all the news. She would voice her views and stand up for what she believed in.
She cared for the sick — she nursed two of her own children through cancer and faced the tragedy of losing her youngest son. When I was diagnosed with cancer she arrived without asking, to provide care and support.
At the age of 95, travelling in a wheel chair during Covid times, she came down from New Delhi to attend our 50th Wedding Anniversary. Such was her courage!
She loved children and that was how she was Aunty Naughty. She was a teacher and taught with dedication.
She had strong faith and for her prayer was a conversation with the Lord. She often said that she fought with the Lord every day to take her to paradise.
These two strong ladies knew the art of making meaning of life and they did it with joy. They did not set out to be icons. They left us a legacy on the art of making meaning of life. They loved life and lived life with vitality until the end in order to bring love, happiness and joy into the life of others. And they worked through this with their weaknesses and quirks — who doesn’t have weaknesses and quirks!!
There are many like them around us. Let’s learn the art of making meaning in life from them. It’s never too late!
Sunrise, Sunset
Sunrise, Sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears. (Fiddler on the roof)
