Yesterday, 9/12/15, I found out my favorite aunt had fallen and soon after, possibly in the ambulance, also suffered a stroke. We didn't see each other often but she is the one that comforted my "big blister" and I after our mother died. She even came to our church to be with us the first Mother's day after Mothers passing. She found ways to soften our transition to being fully orphaned and took us out for dinner on or around our birthday most years after. I looked forward to those dinners with just us girls and our spouses. No cousins allowed! This was our time.
When my husband and I first arrived she seemed disoriented and confused even to the point that I didn't think she knew who I was. Finally realizing yes, she had had a stroke and her right side was not functioning. She can't see me standing here. I made my way to the left side as my cousin and big blister yielded. As I shuffled closer her bruised and swollen face flashed a smile that lifted my heart and after that I truly believed she knew it was me. Her speech was slurred and I didn't understand much of what she said but I listened intently to it all and reassured her it would get better. Every day it would get better. Her only job was to rest and get better.
I brought her coloring books, crayons and a small stuffed Minion I introduced to her as King Bob. One of the coloring books was My Little Pony and the other was Minions. Both coloring books came with four primary colored crayons. I explained that a choice of four crayons is not really a choice and that is why we bought the bigger box. It contained 24 new high tech crayons that twisted to allow a larger usable crayon instead of having to peel the paper away.
As she studied my face I explained that I wasn't sure if she had heard of Minions or remembered what they look like so I brought King Bob to model for the coloring book if needed. She seemed impressed and I hoped that soon I would walk into her room and find her honing her fine motor skills with the help of crayons, coloring books and Bob. I also encouraged her to play with him. I told her as she began to feel better she could have some fun with her visitors by nudging Bob onto the floor or if she was strong enough she could toss him across the room when the time was right and no one would be the wiser. I said you can play fetch whenever you have people in the room. They will pick him up every time! (I was delighted to hear that my cousin walked into her room the next morning to find her Mother, my favorite aunt, clutching Bob in her left hand).
I think I was able to connect, encourage and comfort my cousins daughter as she was making her way around the room saying her goodbyes. After all my years, and all the losses, I still, to this day and into the foreseeable future, have no idea how to say goodbye to a loved one. After so many years I know how death works. Me and my broken heart really know that. So many losses and I still feel as though they just recently passed on. Often I find no comfort where comfort should be and as the people around me dwindle I cannot imagine that the grief of this life will ever be something that I can deal with gracefully.
My favorite memory of my Aunt June didn't happen too long ago. She me and 1203 (long story short, 1203 is my husband) had a very deep and honest discussion of things she had never spoken to anyone else about. That intimacy and renewed bond will forever be with me and will remain till time is no more. And while we wait for God to do his work and hear our prayers I am certain that she heard me yesterday and will love me from wherever she is as I will love her through my grief and beyond. Fifty nine years on this earth and still not good at goodbye.
As mentioned in one of my earlier post: What words could possibly be spoken that would comfort another? What words can truly express the feelings of those touched by loss and if I am the one grieving, what words can lift the veil? How do we communicate death to a child or someone child like? How do we respond to a grieving heart that can distract enough to allow just a moment of relief? We have words that can cut us to the bone but what words bring comfort? I think it isn't so much the pain and heartache but more the anguish that leaves us broken without words.It is my experience that the sadness of death is like a tsunami that floods the heart with grief. Friends and family are swept in as the words are spoken announcing the loss and collectively but uniquely we rage against the force of the waters. Waters that have (this time) spared us and taken a loved one. As the waves continue to crash on the shore we stop thrashing as often and allow our broken hearts to ride the waves that are rhythmically lifting us to the next sunrise.
Today the doctors are not optimistic that a recovery is possible. Tomorrow will begin another sunrise and all things are possible. Love is kind (and for now is reflected in the form of crayons, coloring books and a Minion named Bob).
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