My aunt passed away on Saturday. My uncle’s wife, my cousins’ mother. I was on the phone that day talking to only some of the people that took up an entire floor of a hospital. Brothers, nieces and nephews, in-laws and friends all together to embrace four people that were losing their wife, their mother. I almost feel sorry for anyone else on that floor that had to be pushed out by the crowd. But on the other hand, I am envious that they were there to see the strength of the bond that group of people has with each other.
Having something to say about Julie isn’t hard. From the time I was four with my first memory of Julie before she and Kevin were married, I saw her as a woman that wasn’t like most. In the 70s she stood out as someone that wasn’t going to do something just because it was expected of her. I believe she saw life for its opportunities. She knew what she wanted and had the intelligence to know how and when to achieve it. She was the kind of woman I wanted to be.
I remember when us older cousins – Chris, Jen, Josh and myself – used to play this make-believe game in Grandma and Grandpa’s basement. We each took on identities of cool teenagers and created our own sort of Hays Happy Days. If I remember right, Chris tried to be this blonde Fonze-like character and made Josh, who was all of 2, be his little side-kick. I clearly remember the small battle Jen and I took on with our identities. We both wanted to be intelligent, independent and of course beautiful young women. That was easy. The battle happened over what our names would be. Before we could begin playing, Jen and I would argue over who could claim the name Julie. At the impressionable ages of 4 and 6, the woman that would become our aunt was, to us, the woman we wanted to be when we were 20- something.
When I was eleven Julie had earned her MBA and a great career. At that time she had known what she wanted professionally. It was also at that time that she had Jessie. In the early 80s women were beginning to find a place in the work force. The drive was for women to fight to prove they could work right along-side men just as well as they could be house-wives. I wasn’t old enough to understand exactly what that decision meant to Julie and the family. Some people probably thought that giving up her career to be at home with her children at that time was a mistake. To Julie, however, it must have been the next opportunity, to give herself to building a family. What I clearly remember is thinking that it was one of the bravest things she could have done. That was the woman I wanted to be when I was 30-something.
Then once Jessie, Jake and Abby were all in school, Julie broke the norm again and went back to get her PhD. She knew what was next for herself, found the opportunity and took it. I remember her laughing about being the oldest person in the class, but it clearly didn’t bother her too much. There was still a career to be had and she was going to have it despite the voices that might have said she was too old. I remember looking at her and believing that a woman can have it all. She can be a fully active stay at-home mom and have a career, in her own time. I remember thinking, that was the woman I wanted to be when I was 40-something.
Whether it was planning for life and family or reusing birthday candles and wrapping paper, Julie always did it for her reasons and didn’t care about the flack people might have given her. She figured out how to balance her own needs and desires with the needs of her family. And it is because of her life choices, her independence, determination, sense of humor and love for her family that, Julie could create a Hays/Mountain core that is about as solid and strong as it can be.
After finding out on Saturday that Julie wasn’t going to make it, I thought about Jessie who had to travel alone for hundreds of miles. I imagined what it must have been like for her to be alone for those hours. When family is such a major part of your life and you decide to leave it for a while, the experiences you have away from them are priceless, and it’s because of their love and support that you can succeed away from them. But when something happens to one of them, it must feel as if that core is breaking apart and holding it together can only happen when you are back around them. I imagined that for hundreds of miles Jessie traveled knowing that her core was near bursting. I then imagined what it was like for her to see her dad, brother and sister when she arrived. I imagined that core coming together with palpable strength. That hold between Kevin, Jessie, Jake and Abby was probably not only felt by them but by every person on that floor of the hospital.
It’s that hold that will keep their core together. The core has a big hole in it now that might not ever be completely filled. There is no doubt in my mind, though, that the four of them are strong enough to hold it together. Their lives will continue and other things will move into that core including new lives that will live because of Julie’s. I have no doubt that Kevin, Jessie, Jake and Abby will keep that hold strong. The memory of Julie will also be there with them, holding them. And when it’s really hard for them, the rest of the family and friends that took up the floor of that hospital will be there for them.
As I said before, having something to say about Julie isn’t hard. I’ve thought these things about her for 30 years. It’s saying them that’s always the hard part, and I’m sorry it has waited until now to be said and that poor Jessie had to say it for me.
I have always admired you Julie and have to thank you for the place and the impact you have had in my life. I love you!
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