Bound To Your Heart

Just dropped off the magnificent matriarch of the Rubbicco family❤️

Driving to Sunday dinner, we listened to my sister, Dori Rubbicco ‘s, new CD. Mom’s gnarled fingers felt surprisingly soft to the touch as we grasped hands, communing to the title song, “Bound To Your Heart,” a favorite of my late sister, Jeanne, and her daughter, Terri.

You don’t know how tightly I’m bound to your heart.

You don’t know how tightly I’m bound to your heart.

Leave the light on, leave the light on. Oh cause honey, I’m in a hurry to come on home.

The unspoken memory of Dori singing these words at Jeanne’s Celebration of Life weighed heavily between us. Tightening our grip, our voices joined Dori’s, and the music did what it always does for our family— it shed light into the dark recesses of our shared grief.

My husband pulled up just in time to help me get Mom’s wheelchair out. Before we knew it, the beer can chicken and savory tenderloin was grilled to perfection. Dessert by Lauren (my outrageously talented niece) was followed by our after-dinner entertainment in the form of my great-niece and nephew’s raucous pool shenanigans.

The scorching sun swiftly descended behind the trees signaling our leavetaking. While we waited for my husband to work his magic on Mom’s broken footrest, Mom’s leg suddenly spasmed. All hands on deck, Team O’Neil swiftly came to the rescue—her walker materialized, my son-in-law followed closely behind as we walked the cramp off, and my son and daughter gathered our belongings as we made our way to the car.

As I wheeled Mom to her apartment she said, “I always said I never wanted to live in a place that had a long dark hallway. But here I am Laurie. You just never know where life is going to take you.”

Driving home, I played “Bound To Your Heart” over and over, tears streaming down my cheeks. My brave, bold-spirited, warrior mother’s spirit was up against her fiercest enemy—time… My heart ached for the incessant pain caused by her arthritic body, for the stolen adventures her disease has literally hijacked from her.

And then, my almost 92-year old mother’s voice sounded loudly in my being. This extraordinary woman who was widowed at 38, who raised five brilliant, fierce, daughters, who leads with love every single day of her life, had said, “I know I can’t feel sorry for myself. But sometimes it’s so hard, Laurie. But then I think of Terri. And all she went through. How positive she was. And I tell myself, it’s not so bad…”

How blessed am I to be bound to this beautiful heart?

I invite you to take a listen to “Bound To Your Heart.” May it remind you of just how lucky we are to be bound to the hearts of those we love and to savor each and every opportunity to “leave the light on” for each other.

Love,

Auntie L