A New Year’s Resolution

It was the best New Year’s resolution I ever made.

In 2012, I made a New Year’s resolution to visit a branch of my family tree that had long been missed. At the time I had not seen my uncle Don and aunt Jean since my wedding nearly twenty years before, and the path my life had taken since that day had me somewhat ashamed to do so. When I asked my uncle to walk me down the aisle to my new husband, he accepted the invitation with happiness as he stepped into the role for his brother, my father. He and aunt Jean could not have been more lovely as they traveled 500 miles to attend my little wedding in a small church in rural Arkansas.

I practically floated that day, surrounded by my family and looking forward to the future.

Only four years later, though, the excitement of that day was only a fleeting memory as I signed divorce papers and walked out of the life I had so happily walked into. I remember the first several months after my divorce, when I would sit in the dark of the evening and wonder how I would tell my aunt and uncle the news, and secretly hoping my mother already had. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them that I had asked them to travel all those miles to a wedding that did not last until the traditional anniversary gift of wood.

Those few months that I delayed calling them, soon moved into a year, and another year, and another, until it reached a point where I was more ashamed of not contacting them in so long than I was about the demise of my marriage. As the year 2012 dawned, I made one resolution: go see them. Period.

Admittedly, I took the coward’s approach to my first contact by writing an email, which, if not answered, would never be clear on whether the reason was deliberately non-responsive due to the recipient’s complete disappointment in me or whether the tubes and wires of cyberspace had claimed my email as victim, undelivered.

But my sweet aunt Jean answered. She answered my request to visit with the delightful exuberance of someone who just found $20 from the previous year in the pocket of a winter coat they just pulled from the closet. My years of self-imposed exile were melted away, and the re-connection began.

To put off going to see someone you love is folly. Go today. Go this week. Book your ticket tonight. Go see them. Tell them they mattered. — Jean Ellen Whatley

Since that moment in January 2012, when my email inbox glowed with the love of Jean, my journey to become my best self began. You see, Jean was the catalyst. Her clear blue eyes framed by curls of silver hair have the power to instantly put a person at ease. In her presence, I felt calm for the first time in years, because she knew me. She knew me without even telling her anything about the years we missed by being apart. I didn’t have to hide with her; she loved me anyway. With that, I have been able to see my life with fresh potential.

That is Jean: her amiable demeanor infuses anyone near her with the desire to be better. She keeps us on the right path without judging our steps. She makes us better without lecturing. She illuminates a room without the need for Mr. Edison’s inventions. When she hugs you, you know you are loved. She’s the kind of person that makes you feel better just by being near her.

And when she left on New Year’s Eve, she left like a lady, quietly stepping away into the night, where she took her place among the stars.

It was the best New Year’s resolution I ever made.

Don & Jean Herrman – 2012

Jean Herrmann passed away in the early hours of Dec 31, 2015, just four days shy of her 86th birthday. She and Don were married 62 years.

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