This past weekend I visited my parents. Remarkably, the kids weren’t sick and our schedule was clear. So we went to go play with “grandma’s toys” and were able to sit and catch up about a number of things: SESTIVA’s current status and future, plans for our backyard, updates with their friends, etc. And then the moment came. The moment that always comes. The comment about “my stuff” in their basement and taking it home with me. Fine, let’s go look at it. Finally. For both our sakes so we can stop having this conversation. We have time so let’s do it.

What I walked into was a wall of stacked boxes. Some had my name on it, some had my sibling’s name. My folks weren’t wrong. It’s a lot. I can’t possibly take all of this in one load. However, I promised my dad “Every time I come over, I’ll take one box with me. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. And I can take a leg today. Next time I’ll take another leg.”

So, true to my form, I came home and immediately went through it. If I don’t now, I never will. And that’s not “eating anything”. That’s just putting a elephant leg in my house. I’m not signing up for moving an entire “elephant” from their address to mine. I gotta eat it, even if I’m not hungry. So I start going through it and processing. And reliving memories. Receiving the joy and then making decisions on what’s next: save it again, take a picture, share with someone else, and/or purging to donation, trash, or recycle.

A fun Saturday evening was spent going through a box of cards and various pieces of paper that was decided for me and also by me that these items were worth keeping. The ones decided for me were cards to my parents sending congratulations of my birth in 1985. Those are going back to my parents. The vast majority of these people I have absolutely no idea who they are, but they were in my parents lives in the 80s. Those are their memories. So they can have this “elephant toe” back.

I found some cards from my maternal grandmother from before and after her stroke. Her handwriting naturally changed and I kept those for posterity and in remembrance of her. But then I came across some letters. I had about ten letters in this box. That I definitely saved: sent to me, saved by me, for future me. The today me. (I really love “past me” sometimes). I save stuff to “review at a later date” and often times its trash but the distance in time helps me assess if it’s sentimental or not. I’m a purger. But I need time and distance to give me the proper vantage point of sentimentality versus hoarding.

And then sometimes you find a long forgotten gem that is a two page handwritten letter from your paternal grandfather. Due to family strain and generational trauma, he (and my grandmother) was (were) estranged from me/us for about a decade.

Until I wrote them a letter when I had a new address at university.

Reading this as someone approaching their 40s versus approaching their 20s hits so differently. I’d like to share.

“To our dearest granddaughter Katie,

I was very happy to receive your letter. I’m glad that you wrote. It’s good to know how you are doing. I’m very interested to know how things are going for you. I’m glad that you are communicating with us, as we wish you the very best.

Your ability to connect with people is important for it will help you to have a successful life. You seem to have developed “critical thinking skills” which enables you to analize (sic) what is the real reason why people behave as they do.

If people come to you for your opinions, that shows you have a reputation for integrity and honesty with a good amount of empathy and sincerity.

Receiving your letter is an example of what I have observed through the years.

We move along through life untill (sic) we reach a certian (sic) point, and then by chance and by choices we make; we then leave behind whole other lives we could have lived, with other passions and joys, and other problems and regrets. This will happen many times. There are so many other lives we could have lived. We build our lives one choice after another.

And the letter continues to talk about how due to my experience with music and business that maybe I’ll find myself in the entertainment field. The closest I’ve gotten to that was talking on the microphone at Shoe Carnival. HA!

By meeting all kinds of people, you may make the right contact. The more people you meet, the better your chance to be at the right spot at the right time. …

I want to empahize (sic) that it was good of you to write. For we where (sic) always hoping that your life was going well. Also, remember, we are always willing to help you any way we can.

With much love;

Your Grandfather”

After this, we may have exchanged a few more letters but a deeper relationship never ignited. The damage was done and our life paths were far too distant at that point in 2003. Not much that a 19 year old and a 80 something year old had in common other than our bloodline. But I was happy to be able to put down the emotional load that I had been carrying for a decade that I simply couldn’t carry anymore. He was able to meet my first child before his death. I have pictures of that day somewhere. Future me will stumble upon them one day.

I lost my maternal grandfather when I was six, after a year or two of declining health. I don’t remember him much. Just in pictures. As mentioned before, my maternal grandmother had a stroke and had medical issues resulting from that so we didn’t have that “come over and bake cookies with Grandma” kind of relationship although I do have a few funny memories and I do see her everyday in the fabric of my family. She passed a month before my wedding. She’s buried in the outfit she was going to wear to my wedding. And I find peace in that.

Being estranged from my paternal grandparents during my teens has and had incredible implications for me and my family that has lasted for decades. I’m not going into it all because that dirty laundry isn’t my laundry anymore. Mine is clean and folded and put away in a storage container in my closet if I ever need to reference it again.

But, all things considered, ‘Grandfather’ took his opportunity to give me a gift of his elderly wisdom and I was smart enough to keep the letter to read when the universe called me to it again.

For someone that didn’t know me well, he clearly did hone in on something that is me. Or maybe I latched on to this messaging and just forgot about it. Chicken or the egg situation. I really don’t know. Maybe this is what I needed to hear at this time in my life and I’ve embedded it into my adult being. I just don’t know. But I believe this wholeheartedly and have built my business and personal brand upon it.

Lastly,

“There are so many other lives we could have lived. We build our lives one choice after another.”

I choose to do the best I can EVERY - SINGLE - DAY. Because your choices do matter. The ripple effects can reach much farther than you initially think. Maybe even 20 years later when you start your own business or while raising children. But it’s safe to say that the wisdom my dad has shared with me over the years probably came from his father:

• “Life is not a race, it’s a marathon” aka “worry about yourself”

• “Happiness is equal parts health, time, and money” aka “life needs balance"

• “It’s something to do” aka “try new things no matter how silly or stupid it may seem”

I hope I can share my family’s wisdom through to my children. Generational trauma can turn into generational wisdom when you get that distance in the rearview mirror. To quote me: “I need time and distance to give me the proper vantage point.”