A Woman for all Seasons

Death is a difficult subject. It is an experience we will all have, yet we dismiss the conversations to prepare ourselves to the inevitable time of leaving this earth.  

Growing up in our Mexican culture, the discussion of death was not a mystery to our family. Our introduction to death started as children during the holiday ‘El Día de Los Muertos’, two days, November 1 and 2, set aside to remember those who have passed before us. 

The women took weeks to prepare for the celebration at the cemetery with our friends and families. Mom created paper-mâché flowers made of cut strips and pedals of colorful crinkly paper. Dipped in hot wax, hung to dry, and harden, and then wired together and formed into arrangements of gorgeous wreaths of flowers to be placed at gravesites and at home alters. Year after year during the festivities we heard the stories of those we were memorializing. Two days of stories, laughter, food, music, and tears, not of morning but of joyful celebration, as we recalled how our lives had been touched by those now gone from us. And of course, the belief that we would someday be reunited was at the foundation of the festivities. 

My mother, a woman of strong faith, spoke of death as a matter of reality and in her last years of life asked for a merciful God to take her sooner than later. She had no fear of leaving and was sure she would be welcomed on her next journey by those she loved, now waiting for her. 
Thus far, death is a predictable outcome to living. Although much research on longevity and our lives conceivably extended to hundreds of years is ongoing, but as of today, we can all expect to die. Death is not a mystery. 
How we live is what matters and here lies the mystery. Who are you? How will you be remembered? What difference will you make in others’ lives? What stories will be told about you and what music, food, tears, and laughter will be the legacy of your remembrance. 

You may be thinking why the subject of death has come into my thoughts at this time. Aside from the fact that I’m at an age where there are more memorial services, a message of a passing came to me this week and encouraged the thoughts. The sentiment touched me deeply and the words begged to be shared. 
My dear friend Amy Shepard’s husband’s stepmother passed away suddenly. The following is a small portion of what was written of her, "Sema was generous, loving, kind and will be remembered as a woman for all seasons. She was gentle as an autumn breeze, strong as a winter storm, vibrant as the dawn of spring, and beautiful as a summer rose. She enriched the lives, hearts, and souls, of everyone who knew her."

Of course, I thought of my mother and of the many women over my fifty-five years as a stylist who were women for all seasons trekking through my salon, my life, and my heart who have passed and will be waiting to welcome me. In the meantime, today I celebrate life with you. Thank you for the autumn breezes, winter storms, vibrance of spiring, and the beautiful summer flowers we enjoy together. You are all of that and so much more.  

With love,
Hilda