We are so many people inside, so many faces, so many hearts. Some see our joy, others our fear, our anger, our complacency, our uncertainty, our hope, our sadness, our surprise. As adults, we know that our views of people from childhood are yellowed with age–from our friend’s parents to teachers to the high schoolers who bumped us in the hall to the counter girls at the ice cream counter to our sports coaches.
Our point of view can be so different from others’ opinions. I attended a funeral of my childhood friend’s mother this week. I remembered her as the tough, single mom of four rambunctious children who tried to keep them safe, clothed and educated. I met so many people who knew her other lives. Her financial planner, old friends, past co-workers, caretakers, her ex-husband, her children– I mingled and chatted with many of them, learning so much of her other personalities that I rarely saw.
What do we choose to share? How will we be remembered? I felt I learned more sides of Roberta in a few hours after her passing than I saw for over thirty years. And they were so positive. C