Goodbye

We talked today at work about legacy.  While the talk centered on our jobs and the best ways to go about them, it ended up turning into something much more.  You see, the best legacy is not a list of accomplishments and accolades.  No, it is reflected in those that were around you.  How their lives were have been improved and how their actions further reverberate in the lives around them.

My grandmother, Emmaline "Sammie" McHale, passed away yesterday morning.  I am told that she spent the night before enjoying dinner with my Aunt Sue while in good spirits and passed away painlessly, without struggle, overnight.  She was 90 years old and certainly left behind a legacy.

Much of the McHale family at our last family reunion in 2012

When I think of the McHale family, two things immediately spring into my mind - laughter and love.  The whole family, there isn't an exception among them.  Every memory I have of family gatherings, whether they be family reunions, holidays, or semi-planned meetups have plenty of laughter and an outpouring of love as the centerpiece.  That is Grandma Sam's legacy.  Her children and grandchildren following her footsteps.

easily one of my all time favorite pictures

I talked to my dad a little last night, mostly to pass on the unfortunate news.  We haven't spoken much about my mother or his relationship with the McHales over the years, but he made a poignant statement.  He said that the McHales opened up his world and many of his views.  The family was loud, rambunctious, mischevious, fun, and loving.  He credits all of this to Grandpa and Grandma.  They taught him that there was another, completely acceptable, way to do this whole family thing.  

I do not know the McHale side of my family as well as I would like.  In the course of growing up, seeing the members of the McHale clan that lived close become something of a treat.  Fishing with Uncle Tom, Thanksgiving in Atlanta, tortellini carbonara at Little Joe's with Aunt Annie, and time spent with grandma are some of the fondest memories of my childhood.  Maybe because they were EVENTS they were destined to be set apart.  However, that is not all.  It is how I felt during those times.  Even at a young age, before I could fully understand or appreciate it, I felt, well, loved.  The emphasis was on quality over quantity.

I got to see Grandma Sam while I was at school in Monterey in 2009.  She lived about 4 hours south in Ventura.

Much of my understanding and knowledge of Grandma Sam is because of her legacy.  Everyone that ever got to spend time with her was overjoyed at the prospect of it.  An apt nickname for her is "The Matriarch."  She ran the show and her kids and grandkids are a reflection of her.  She had a gravitational pull and, at the same time, an ability to make every single person feel special and important.

Grandma and Uncle Mark

I would be lying if I said that I don't feel a little guilty.  I keep making mention of the fact that I know her via her legacy.  Reading my cousins', aunts, and uncles posts, messages, and e-mails about her, I've realized that there was a lot that I missed.  I couldn't tell you her favorite color, favorite food, or if she had any allergies.  Wow...  I didn't exactly think about that until I'd typed it...
I'm not 100% sure why this is.  Maybe we fell into the pattern (for whatever reason) when I was a child of rarely seeing each other and just got used to it.  Part of it has to be us living in different states for much of my adulthood.  Still, I could have done better.  I should have made communicating with her more of a priority.  After I turned 30, we settled into a rhythym of Christmas and birthday cards with loving notes in them while looking forward to the next family reunion or the next time we might happen to be "near" each other.  I was really, really looking forward to the family reunion this summer.

Some time 10-15 years ago, a book was put together that includes some of my Grandpa's "greatest hits" during his time with the Flint Journal.  I keep it on my coffee table between "The Iliad and Odyessy" and "The Divine Comedy."  I couldn't sleep Monday night and, as I have more than a couple times in the past, grabbed the book.  My Grandpa died when I was just 2 and I have no memories of him.  This book is not only my best connection to him, but Grandma and many of my aunts and uncles that I do not get to know as well as I'd like.  Grandpa wrote in a conversational tone and I have an amalgation of my uncles voices in my head as I read his words.  Some of the articles are well-known to me, detailing the fallout of my mom's death.  Others get into the day to day life of the McHales in the 70s and 80s.  Backing the car out of the driveway, finding a lost dog, or having to take the garbage out for the first time in 30 years.  It gives me some of those family stories that I may not otherwise have ever learned.   One that hit me most on Monday was the last one in the book.  Published the day before he died, it was essentially a love letter to his wife of 37 years.  One last "I love you" before goodbye.

Goodbye Grandma Sam.  Your legacy of love and laughter shows that the world was a better place for having you in it.