Happy Endings

We never met.

She was the friend of a friend. It was one of those nebulous relationships where my friend often discussed her other friend’s problems. So in a sense I guess I felt as if I knew Ladie..

Since Ladie and I had attended the same parochial high school without either ever being aware of the other, our paths probably crossed at some time. Of course, that was half a century ago and since there were four thousand students in Cathedral High during that era, neither Ladie nor I could possibly have remembered.

Our backgrounds, both religious and nationality, were identical. Yet, there had to have been a radical difference in upbringing because Ladie was what was known as a “good daughter.” In yesterday’s terminology, that referred to a female child who remained home to care for a parent and willingly relinquished her own possibilities in life.

This was not an unknown scenario during that era. While I knew several others in my peer group who fell into that category. I never viewed them as “good daughters,” but rather as “living saints.” While they earned my respect and those of all who knew them, I have to admit I never quite understood their choice to abdicate their own lives.

That may have been the reason I found Ladie so interesting. Possibly I envied her goodness. Maybe it fed into my guilt about using my own wings to fly away from family so early in life. I found myself uncertain exactly why, but the more I heard about Ladie, the more I wanted to know. Since I was living in another state, the odds of ever meeting were virtually nil. Yet I began to think about her almost as a distant friend. I even hoped that on one of my return visits to NY, possibly our paths might cross.

I learned from our mutual friend that Ladie had not moved from the family home even after her Mother’s demise at the age of 99. She never followed friends to different vistas or neighborhoods, or even went on exotic vacations. Her life never veered from the familiar, and yet apparently, she lived in contentment. To all appearances, she was not only satisfied with her solitary existence, but quite happy.

Possibly that was what intrigued me. Maybe because content would never describe my variable moods. It might even be that subconsciously I wanted to emulate Ladie’s equilibrium. That speculation suddenly ended when Ladie suffered a fall early this year.

An only child, there were no relatives nor neighbors in her world to come to her aid. Now elderly she became totally dependent in the words of Tennessee Williams, on the “Kindness of strangers.” While Ladie seemed to accept this scenario with her unswerving placid nature, somehow I believed that view might not be a valid portrayal. Her strong character became apparent shortly afterwards when she vigorously refused all help from social services and medical experts. She chose to exert her right to make decisions that most people would find incomprehensible.

Ladie decided not to have any medical care that would return her earlier independent status of life. She chose to remain alone, and die that way. When that happened, and I learned about her death, I felt no surprise. We may not have met, but I realized Ladie was not to be pitied. She deliberately chose the lifestyle she wanted; and her path never fluctuated. She preferred a lifetime of solitude and accepted its inevitable ending.

That is when I realized, everyone’s happy ending may not be the same. I suddenly understood that the differences in humanity are what makes life so interesting.