The Lesson She Gave Me

My aunt would have been 57 today. Seems incredible to think about her as a 57 year old. She's still so vivid in my mind as she was at 34. Blond hair flying everywhere, big smile, and a laugh that I still hear ringing in my heart and soul.

She once told me that she wanted to have a dog someday. A big old floppy labrador who she'd name Beauregard.

I'm not sure she meant for it to at the time, but that name has stuck with me for years. Various and sundry stuffed animals in my world have been called Beauregard beause of her.

Now that I sort of speak French, I've come to think of this name Beauregard in a new way, beau regard. Beautiful look or, rather, beautiful outlook.

It's not correct French and I'm sure my French friends would argue I'm translating poorly, but it works for me.

I don't think we can ever understand the lessons we give in our lives, the lessons we share without meaning to. She taught me so much by her living and by her dying. Because of those lessons, I appreciate my life, my chance, my blessings. Because of her, I hold dearly to a beau regard of what's around me.

I hope someday I get to see her again, laughing and playing with a big old chocolate lab. Till then, I'll listen carefully for her in my heart.