A Quiet Life, Well Lived

A few words in honor of Beth.

To my family, and me she was Aunt Beth.

The apostle Paul, in his first letter to the Thessalonians, said these words: “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life.” An odd way of putting it, since ambition is usually categorized as being ambitious. Not something often associated with a quiet life. Nevertheless, that was Beth. Someone who was thoroughly determined to lead a quiet life.

And lead a quiet life she did.

Beth never said much about herself. She could, and would, rattle off facts and figures about herself and her family. How many children someone might have had, who they were married to and when, when and how they passed away. But abut herself? Above basic biographical facts, about the most you would get out of her is a sigh and an “oh, I don’t know.” She left the ambition and the adventure and the storytelling to her brother Jack, our Dad, and her sister Hazel, both of whom she has now rejoined. Beth was quite content to get the occasional word in edgewise and leave it at that.

A quiet life.

Beth was young and in love once. Her fiancé Julius died in the Bataan Death March during the dark days of the early part of World War Two. As far as Beth was concerned, that was it. The love of her life was gone, and there would be no other. She kept Julius’ picture in his Army uniform on her nightstand, the engagement ring he gave her in a lockbox. Today, she’s once again wearing her ring; the picture of Julius by her side. It was a long time interrupted, but they are finally together. We know Christ said at the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven. Still, I believe He has at the least arranged for Beth and Julius to have adjoining rooms in His Father’s house.

Beth was a woman of quiet faith. She cherished the time spent with her fellow members of the Young Ladies Institute, and when it came to attending Mass had rugged determination that would put the hardiest mountain climber to shame. Unobtrusive, to be sure. But determined all the same.

A quiet life.

Beth loved San Francisco. Odd, in that she called Indiana home. But love San Francisco she did, especially her Giants even though she arrived in the city by the bay several years before the team. She would faithfully listen to the games on the radio rather than watch them on television because, as she would often remind one and all, that’s what her father did. I regret she never got to hear them win the World Series. And with me an A’s fan.

As a circle draws tighter, those that remain draw closer. Yet even as one circle draws tighter, another grows more complete. Our loss is deep, yet momentary. For Beth, so much has now been gained. She is with her family and her beloved Julius, even as we are now here. One day we, too, will leave this circle and complete another. Until that day, we hold Beth dear in our hearts. And we will always remember a quiet life.

A quiet life, well lived.