Scrabble, Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit

One week ago today, my family suffered the loss of my Aunt Susan, my mom’s younger sister.  She was the youngest of four sisters.  That’s not all she was, but it does anchor her place in the Gantt family.  While her life was not what she had hoped and that breaks my heart, Susan made a lasting impression.  Many of my cousins and family members have posted things about her on social media over the course of the last week, especially around Friday, as we all gathered to say goodbye and participate in the funeral.  So, this may not be new to you.  This may be an echo of what you’ve already seen about her.  However, here is what I want to record about Susan, what has been on my mind over the last week:

                  If you had been with us at any one of the Gantt family Christmas gatherings, during the years when we could all be together, you probably would have seen children running around, possibly heard someone singing, walked past at least one person asleep in front of the TV (I won’t call anyone out here), seen the remnants of the “letter” gift exchange started a full year prior, on the Christmas before using a Scrabble set, and eaten more than your share of cookies and Chex mix.  You would also have seen a large group of us gathered around the dining room table, playing a game.  It wasn’t always a board game, but it was always a game that brought laughter, competition and my Aunt Susan was always in the middle of it.  She was an avid game player when we were around and was remarkably good at them.  I could have written this in “Jeopardy” format to honor both her trivia knowledge and affinity for games, but I wasn’t quite so clever this time around. 

                  Right now, we still feel an overwhelming grief; we’re grieving and that’s ok; that’s what we are supposed to do with our sadness right now. It looks different for each of us.  But, I will tell you, as so many others will second; Susan herself is not a part of that grief.  Susan can echo Beth’s words from Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women (from one reader to another, I had to make some sort of literary allusion) when she said, “Now I’m the one going ahead.”  We can all be confident that Susan is no longer worrying about the next step in her treatment, is no longer in pain and is celebrating with Grandmother and Papa in heaven, maybe reading a good book (maybe she’s even getting a sneak peek into Patrick Rothfuss’s as yet unwritten book) or beating them at a board game. 

                  Since Susan is the closest sister in age to my mother, Robin, I’ve grown up hearing stories about the two of them as children.  As you would expect and I will soon learn first-hand, with two sisters only two years apart, the stories range from sweet memories to memories that might fall into a different category.  You’ll have to ask my Mom if she’ll show you the face that she used to make to scare Susan.  But even so, they played beauty contest together and practiced songs, complete with choreography from their favorite musicals as children. 

Susan followed Mom to Carson Newman College in Jefferson City, TN where she completed her undergraduate studies and later in life, struck out on her own to obtain both her Master’s degree and Doctorate degree from Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY.  These accomplishments give you an idea of the value that Susan always placed on education.  She was the daughter of two people who worked incredibly hard during their lives, but were never able to go to college.  Susan was able to earn not only her Master’s but also her Doctorate.  I have immense respect for education.

When I was a child, Susan was generally around whenever Kyle, Charity and I were together in the Gantt household.  She would take us to run relay races, to the movies, to a playground or tell us that we were passing into different countries each time we drove through a traffic light (oh, now we’re in Argentina, next stop Germany, she’d say, as we drove around Spartanburg).   Susan invested in us as children and as adults.  Over the past couple of years, we’ve spent a good bit of what little time we had together talking about books.  That shared love of reading was always a tie between us. I can honestly say that I am grateful for the years we all had together and for the lasting marks she left in my life.

                  Susan Gantt’s memory will live on in her three sisters, three brothers-in-law, seven nieces and nephews, and their spouses and children.  Being pregnant and experiencing the loss of a loved one does have a unique feel.  My own grief is magnified through the lens of knowing that my second baby girl will not get to meet this aunt.  It’s a strange feeling and sadly, one that I’ve experienced before.  This loss is not about me and I know that, although I am sad for both my daughters.  The Gantt family will continue; the legacy is there, but it will always be a little different.  For that matter, Scrabble, Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit will also always be a little different…