Visit #2

CLARITY

Recently, I chaperoned an outdoor Wilderness program for my grandson’s fifth grade class.  One of their favorite activities turned out to be a hike, where after dinner, we all gathered in a large field, acclimated our eyes to the night sky and continued deep into the woods with only a head counselor carrying a red flashlight to lead our way.  The kids loved it, but I spent those two hours working hard to not only keep up but to keep myself steady and balanced on the slippery, rocky and uneven path.  It was nerve wracking!

The outdoor experience of that trip got me thinking back to the time Suzi, Billy, Jesse, Will and I went camping together at Sebastian Inlet, Florida, not too far from where Willy and I were living while he finished college.  Although a beautiful spot during the day, nighttime was a different story.  For years after, Suzi and I would howl with laughter remembering our nightly trips to the bathroom area.  Hanging onto each other, we would make our way in the dark fearing every noise we heard was some dreaded armadillo or possibly a snake lurking near our walkway.  However, we also had to stay true to our Billmeyer name, so of course we found ways to scare each other along the way. One night, I found a stick with many branches and shook it under her stall while screeching “SNAKE!!!”  Her scream was so loud that for a minute I thought she really saw a snake, so I dropped the stick and started screaming too.  As the saying goes “you had to be there” but the memories of that trip will stay with me forever.

The nervous part of me not being able to see during that night hike brought me back to the days when Diabetes began taking its toll on Suzi’s eyesight. 

Diabetes.

The one family heirloom that nobody wanted passed down to them.  An uncle and a beloved cousin had already been taken from us way too young.  It reared its ugly head on Suzi’s doorstep right after her son Jesse was born.  Although 27, she would be considered more of a Juvenile diabetic and went straight to daily insulin shots. I will always believe Suzi downplayed this life changing news as “no big deal” and “it doesn’t know who its messing with” because of the fierce protective love she (and all of us) had for our Mother and the tremendous guilt we knew Mom carried for having the family history come from her side.  Luckily, our sister also inherited our mothers “Maine Yankee” character.  Strong, stoic and practical.  She would need it.

The news of anyone challenged with a health issue can come with reactions of sympathy and sadness. It can also carry the perception that after diagnosed, somehow that person becomes almost  “lesser” of a person.  From the start Suzi would have none of this.  Instead, she set out to create a world designed for her.  Outwardly, she never seemed to skip a beat.  Life was to be lived no matter what the circumstances.  However, later in her life her routine of meal preparation, computer work, household chores, family and work travel, community volunteering and most importantly driving, all became increasingly difficult as her eyesight diminished. Still, she adjusted. She persevered. But what most people didn’t realize is that what she did every day behind the scenes to keep her world running smoothly took immense planning. 

One day a few years back, Suzi called me to arrange a trip to New York for Jackson to see the Broadway show “Matilda.”  He was visiting Connecticut and it was close to his birthday.  The show was on a limited engagement and she really wanted to treat he and I to a trip.  So along with her friend Debra, we headed to the city for a special day planned by Aunt Suzi.  What we didn’t know was she had also planned a surprise lunch at the Hard Rock Café.  Knowing Jackson’s love of music and especially the band Aerosmith, she had arranged for him a special VIP experience to the restaurant’s balcony overlooking Times Square while holding an authentic Aerosmith guitar!  The sad irony was she had planned this amazing day for my grandson but didn’t trust herself to make the trip up the dark, winding stairway that led to the infamous balcony.  She assured us she was fine to stay behind so Deb, Jack and I enjoyed that most very special moment she had so lovingly arranged. Not too long after that she called to ask how long it had been since Willy and I had seen the Statue of Liberty.  “In real life,” she teased.  Ummmm….I couldn’t actually remember.  “Well we’re going!” was her enthusiastic response.  These special Aunt Suzi trips were frequent within the Billmeyer family. My children along with my siblings and their children have all been recipients of her wonderful generosity many times over.

Since her passing I’ve been able to reflect on possible reasons why she was always the planner of these memorable days and why she never liked to be surprised herself.  It might have been her self proclaimed Type A personality and the need to be in control or it just might have been to be sure her own personal needs could be dealt with and put in place beforehand so the people she was with would only focus on the happy experience.  Whatever the case, its her overall message that has become crystal clear:

                      You don’t need perfect eyesight to see and feel joy. 

We will celebrate your birthday next week Suzi.  The second one without you here with us.  Our world is so much quieter.  Please keep hold of my hand as you continue to lead me on this difficult, unfamiliar path.