Family Is Relative (Until A Death Occurs)

Three years ago today my glass was full and raised in love to a favorite person that I love beyond the stars to this day. Even before then I had learned some realities about family dynamics. The hard way. I am not uneducated in these matters but don't expect loved ones to act so (there is no good word to use here so help yourself to your goto word selection). 

I was the local stepchild of a step "family" once years ago and that relationship taught me that blood was thicker than water. I was water. My husband, son (favorite of step father was what I was told but can I believe that now?) and I were invited to a Christmas party at a local step sisters' house. We arrived a few minutes early and walked in to find that the blood "family" was cleaning up from their having a pre Christmas party party that didn't include us. Water. Us. Just the three of us. I was so confused. Are we not family or just not family? We left as soon as we could and I never have been able to forget how hurt that day made me feel. My Mother was working out of state and my sister was far, far away in the flatlands of Amarillo. These same step sisters, step brother and step father were the family I had yesterday so was yesterday a lie? According to the need for an additional "family" Christmas party, yes it was.
Families in mourning may do some very odd things. Whether the deceased head of household be a patriarch or matriarch I can attest that among the oddities is having a private ceremony or rituals that exclude "family" of the "family". Yes, it is the prerogative of the "family" to have an invitation only event(s). But isn't it for the "family" whom these things are planned and carried out ~ done so to comfort the family? Did the family funeral planner(s) think she was a celebrity that was not to be shared with anyone not family? She was my Mother while mine was dealing with hepatitis. She drove to Burleson when I got sick at school. We lived with her and her family for six weeks while our blood mother recovered. Her daughter taught me to drive. She wasn't a celebrity to me. She was my favorite (only) Aunt.

I can only imagine how life could have been kinder for those "family" members that were not included, and yes that exclusion included me. I was asked to speak at the funeral which I did without hesitation. No other invitation was extended and at first I didn't even recognize that I was not invited to the "family" activities. I considered myself to be immediate family. Who spent the first Mothers' Day with my sister and I the first year after our Mother passed away? So what was the reason to be excluded? Was this because it was the last request by my favorite Aunt or was the family trying to keep other family members out for reasons I'll never know or even try to understand. My pain, my loss, my greif was left to cry alone. Now orphaned fully and unrecognized as family or friend of my very favorite Aunt. I was nothing. I wasn't permitted to witness my cousins, their children, step children, grandchildren, step grandchildren or close friends release butterflies or to have final closure at the burial.

 

Family? Now I know the true meaning. Family isn't a blood line. Blood is removed as part of the passage from life. Family isn't a water line because as we are returned to the earth the water evaporates. 

Family is relative until a death occurs. 

Family is a love line. 

Family is what the heart, soul and spirit knows to be a real love filled relationship that drives you to be a better you. Family  leads you always to light. Family is the people you love that love you back. Family engages in a meaningful, joyful relationship without leaving you bewildered on your own or unrecognizably bewildered at the loss of another family member. 

Family is who you pray with. 

Family is who you pray for. 

Family is your kind deeds in action during time well spent. True family is what makes your spirit soar and your love light shine for all to see. Light 

What horrible thing(s) was I expected to do if invited? Show up? Granted my mother was not as wealthy as her sister and just as of today I now wonder had my Mother still been living would I have still been excluded from the last memories. Would my mother have not been invited either? I do know it is beyond cruel to break an already broken heart.

So happy I spent time with my Aunt while she was here. I know she loved my family and me. We often bought her dinner and she thought we were the coolest. Light 

So, if you are responsible for the final arrangements but the decedent by death has made you beyond wealthy (which makes you ponder who to trust or you were paranoid already), know that love is kind, inclusive and shines beyond the stars. No need to split to sit on one side of the church or the other. It isn't blood v water. There is no competition in family. Look for the shiny people. They truly loved your loved one and will benefit from the rituals of an inclusive family. 

Blood is thicker than water but light? 

Light shines beyond the stars. 

  ✯  ✭  ✬  ✫  🌟  ⭐  🌠

I am blessed to have my son his wife and grandkids who will likely be making my final, final arrangements. They know the light thing to do.

Love is kind (and shines eternal).

Mother To Mother

So this (the below) is that (the above) ~ Check please!

I went to a restaurant (owned by members of my family) that was celebrating a milestone anniversary. There were people everywhere. Not all family but a lot of people. My husband, sister, brother-in-law, cousins and so on. I took a seat with the family and soon had a friend join me who regularly goes there anyway. I introduced him to the table and he and I talked most of the evening. I hardly heard more than a polite greeting save for my cousin who did take the time to kiss me on the cheek as she whooshed by. We had a meal and as we were ready to leave my sister was asking about her check to which my other cousin said she would cover hers. My sister looked at me and asked her about mine. She was silent. So my sister said if you aren't getting Wanda's it's not fair to get mine.

As you can probably tell, my sister and cousin are more like sisters than me and my sister. That's fine with me. I am more like sisters with my best friend than my sister so I get it. But since our favorite aunt passed away, the family tree seems to be trying to shake me completely out of the tree. My sister and I paid our checks and I have no idea if I will bother going anymore if no one is there who will say more than a polite hello. How much clearer can life get? I'll go peaceably. Life is too short to invest in unhealthy relationships even when they are family.

So.

Polite greetings.

Got it. 

👦👧👨👩👪👫👭👬👷👸👼👲👱👴👵💁

So this (the below) is that (the above).

💕💖💗💘💏💓💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💣💔

I talk to strangers so I don't feel alone

Most relatives avoid me, no one phones

I am not the black sheep or the crazy cousin

I am the zebra with stripes by the dozen

I try to be a joy, try to be the light

I try to play nice, I try not to fight

I am an independent just left of center

Our family crest must read, "Do Not Enter"

Zebras are just not allowed within this clan

Or other animals who take a stand

A black sheep, white sheep, red, even brown or yellow

You don't belong. . .

Run along little fellow

The 1203 Chronicles

2.26.14
It's been a long busy day with patient 1203. But we got an early start and made it through the routing without complications. Now it's time for "Nurse Ratchet" to kick back, relax and give some praise and rest in joy. Night y'all and don't forget to give thanks for those you love and those that love you. Love is kind. Coffee is good.

Meanwhile in a state far away . . .

2.27.14
Today is experiment day. I am here for support but not doing much on his behalf. I had the coffee pot ready to just pour the water and did not have the lids on our coffee cups or carafe. This was very helpful he said because he had a bit of trouble when he was ready for the second cup.
Trying to discover what he can't do without help before I go back to work. So far I have had to open the new, never opened peanut butter jar and he said making a sandwhich was a bit of a struggle but he did it. :) We did get him in a pullover shirt without too much pain and he is enjoying being button free. He had to keep his head elevated for the first 24 hours so he was on the couch last night and I was not. Tonight I am hoping we can travel to Dreamland together.

Love is kind <3

1203 Report 3.1.14
Just three days post op and another great day for 1203 and me. Favorite son and favorite grandkids made it in safely last night. After the kids agreed who slept where, we all settled in and I enjoyed a long cuddle and we drifted to peaceful slumber side by side.

He brought the princess coffee that was announced quietly as it was placed at my bedside. As I heard it, "your coffee is ready for you to wake up if you choose but if you snooze, you will have a few more minutes". After a 10 minute delay my snooze alarm, the sweetest girl (in a sling) came to announce that Pop E said it was time to wake up. I got up, showered and as my son and I agreed the night before, we'd all go to breakfast. Sling buddies Pop E and Sweet Pea,

Sean, B-dawg and me.

As we were seated at the restaurant we had two extra chairs so I called my "big blister" who lives very near by to invite to sit in the available chairs. I was almost turned down but she and Bear came and after catching up on who broke what and how is it now we got to hear of their great adventure to Hawaii. I told you it was a great day!

I was really hoping she would bring me a dolphin but I wasn't sure if they had a big enough zip lock bag. Turns out none of the dolphins followed them home. 1203 and I will just have to visit them in person.

If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain. Yea, we're cool like that. 😍

Night y'all

1203 Report 3.2.14
Today was uneventful for 1203. He very likely has end stages of cabin fever though. We didn't go anywhere Sunday or today. Yesterday he was really hoping I would be snowed in with him today. And who doesn't want someone to play with if you are not sick and home alone? Probably would have gone mad if not for the pea salad I made yesterday.

It was supposed to be a surprise but he caught me in the act. I told him it was for the tuna salad that he knew I was making but apparently he is taking less pain medications so he didn't believe my story at all. English peas does not a tuna salad make. Making surprise pea salad is tricky but I will not go quietly into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light as the refrigerator door is closed. I shall not give up!

So I wasn't snowed in but I did go in an hour late this morning. A bit of black ice and stunt drivers were everywhere. Thought I'd have a better chance of dodging them with a bit of sunlight. As we are trying to prepare for temporary house guests I find I have the back of an old lady. So between Mark's shoulder, my back, ankle, knee and wrist (not broken wrist if anyone is keeping score), we just almost make an able bodied person. It's teamwork that keeps us in an upright position putting one foot in front of the other. He gets his stitches out on Thursday so I have to stay healthy enough to get him there. If I had been in an accident we'd really be in a pickle. Maybe he can loose the pillow in the sling and start bending like Beckham or like Mark E. I hope we have enough pea salad to get him through till I get home tomorrow.

Now where should we go . . . . . .

<3 is kind (but may be prone to cabin fever)



1203 Report 3.4.14
As I said later in my earlier report (I really do like this opening line and it makes perfect sense sensibly): Breaking news! 1203 is wearing jeans that he put on unassisted after I left. I see the not so surprising pea salad had magical powers. Yea Mark!

So I no sooner got home than 1203 was asking to put on a jacket. I talked him into wearing a long sleeve denim over his T-shirt. As soon as we got him put together he was ready to go vote. My butt had not been on the sofa more than 30 minutes. But we went to vote, went to dinner, bought a couple things from the store (Ice creaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam!) dropped off some things for my brother and headed home.

I am hoping the cabin fever has broken though I am sure he can hardly contain himself after mastering the blue jeans. On Thursday I will drive 1203 to the very fine Dr Todd to remove the shoulder stitches. I have a feeling that will open up a lot more activities for him. Physical therapy, no pillow insert in the sling, using his whole arm even from the elbow up, two armed hugs, petting both dogs simultaneously. The list is long of what may be coming soon. :)

Love is kind (and looks sexy in jeans)



1203 Report 3.5.14
Another good day for 1203 and he somehow scored a bonus excursion. The number one brother-in-law called and invited him to lunch! Over lunch they discussed how retirement will be much better when the wives are home too. 1203 has decided the next time he retires, he will only retire when and if I do too. Being home alone all day is not as entertaining as you might expect.

1203 may be heading back to work on light duty and it could be even as soon as next week. We should find out in the morning what happens next after the stitches come out. Early Dr appointment and house guests ETA just keeps moving closer to 5 a.m. Tomorrow will be early and stressful. Not to mention it's also my BFF's BFF's birthday. I just hope I can stay awake through birthday dinner. Note to self: order coffee with dinner. We have been adjusting slowly day after day and even during pre-op to life as it has morphed slowly from two strong arms to one in a sling. From what it was to what it is and as always life just keeps moving forward.

1203 and me, we will keep moving forward too. We'll hold hands, go for walks, visit our boy and his family, hug, snore, laugh, help each other when needed, dance and when we grow old (NOT UP), we'll retire. I suspect after that we will hold hands, go for walks in other places, visit our boy and his family, hug, snore, laugh, help each other when needed, and dance all night even if it's a week night.

Love is kind (in sickness and in health)


1203 Report 3.6.14
As expected today started way earlier than either of us wanted. Phone rang at 2:45 am and by 3:00 we were making our way downtown. 1203 knows I am not a morning person and he apologized as we drove closer to the bus station. I think I had consumed a roady cup of coffee and was back in bed by 4 something-ish. 1203 stayed up to calm the barking dogs and help the guests settle in.

The Dr appointment was at 8 this morning but we were about 15 minutes late. He almost stayed up after the return trip but he nodded off sometime after 6:30 so he woke me at 7:35 and once again we hit the road with purpose and in a hurry. The Gram*E*Mobeel drove quickly as 1203 gave directions to drive around the heavier traffic.

More apologies as he checked in at the desk and we sat quietly for just a few minutes. His name was called and he asked me to come too. His stitches were removed without fanfare and he seemed to forget the questions he had been saving up so I began to ask on his behalf. Yes he can drive as long as he is not taking pain meds. No he cannot take the pillow out of the sling yet. Maybe in three weeks. He can take the sling off to shower and sleep if he wants but he must continue to wear it. His left arm should not push down or raise up but it can help button a shirt and other light duties. Physical therapy location was agreed to and he even made an appointment and went today I found out later. It was going to be 3 times a week but he did so well, he only has to go twice a week. Atta boy Mark E! :)

We took the long way home from the doctor's office and picked up a drive through breakfast. We rounded our corner, I pulled into the driveway, rushed inside, topped off my coffee, brushed my teeth and Mark repacked my lunch and I boomeranged back on to the road and off to work I went. Being almost 3 1/2 hours later than usual made for a busy day. So busy I hardly noticed my fragmented sleep from the night before. Luckily we have as much coffee as a hospital waiting room available at work and I may have consumed twice my weight in coffee. Yea, I'm cool with that.

Got home after work and as we were catching up with our day I learned that 1203 has graduated to putting on and taking off his shirt. As we continued to chat, I got a text from my BFF with birthday dinner inquiry. We had a great time and 1203 and I both stayed awake the whole time. When we got home he was running on fumes and headed off for some well deserved z's. I think I may still be wound too tight but I am ready to join him. Tomorrow is Friday so just one more early morning to end this week. Can't wait to see what 1203 will discover next and looking forward to the weekend and a little extra sleep.

Love is kind (and apologizes without hesitation)

Another Goodbye

There's a poem in his pocket that he will never see
As I watch here from the outside, trying to believe
He chose to rise to heaven, leaving me behind
He left without much warning, heavy on my mind

Now that Mother's joined him in the home up above

Again I feel the loss, one less kiss, one less hug

Uncle Sonny and Mother should have much to talk about

With the poem in his pocket and her sunflower there's no doubt

She could read him the poem written many years ago
And he could scatter seeds, ease my sense of woe
Though we knew time was passing, often weaker each new day
We thought the possibilities must still be months away

Gathered around her bedside she pleaded "Take me home"
And with a single prayer her wishes were made known
Lord let me leave them
as gently as I can
and give them the courage
strength to understand

2017

Might have discovered a cure for my morning headaches! Last night Mark and I had to drink last year's bottle of bubbles rather quickly because we had welcomed 2016 from Oklahoma and we never got around to opening it. Then as is tradition we enjoyed a 2017 welcome bottle starting at midnight and had emptied the bottle and rinsed it out before going to bed.

This morning, no headache so, I told Mark we will need to start a two bottles before bed regimen because. . . No headache!!!

Seriously though, everyone please enjoy your black eyed peas, greens or whatever is your way to celebrate the new year. While we all wish for a happy new year we also know some rain must fall. Some events will be expected and some families will have surprises. Not all events will be in line with our prayers or wishes for ourselves or even strangers that we hear or read about.

There will be hard choices, loud voices, gains and losses, new jobs and bosses. Deaths and births, new chapters and verse. Please take every opportunity and do more than just wish everyone a happy new year. Be a kindness and blessing to others. A safe place for those caught in a storm. Help those around you when you are able and ask for help when you need it. Life is hard. Love is kind. Don't be the unopened bottle that is quickly consumed at the last possible moment.

Cheers!

A Friend Is A Friend 12-29-1999

Being a friend is not a spectator sport
It's laughing and crying, mutual support

It's the ups and the downs, it's shadows and light
It's the person you know that will hold on tight

A friend is a friend and ever will be
A friend is a friend a reflection of me

Empty Nest 8/1/2000

An empty nest
I must confess
Is quieter you see
We're all alone
This place, our home
Just my husband and me

Poster please

A long, long time ago (April of 2016) we went on a road trip to see my granddaughter in a figure skating competition. The road trip included me (Doodle Bug the Aunt or ant), my hubby Mark, his niece Summer, her daughter Autumn (AKA Jelly Bean) and my BFF, Marilyn. We had some "slug bug" shenanigans and in general the conversation moved at about 35 LPH (laughs per hour). I had an idea to take the highlights of conversations that day and make it into a poster or book. After some conversation on the down low her Mother suggested Autumn needed art for her walls.

The first concept

Had to "tool up" for the occasion.

Do not be afraid of a blank piece of paper. 

Just start somewhere and make changes as you go. 

That's me with the pencil. You know, the Ant. 

:)

I take whatever time I need. No need to rush.

Step back and enjoy the progress made so far.

A closer look and slug bug!

On the road trip, Autumn started calling me doodle bug and I called her jelly bean.

Started to come together.

Added "secret messages" that glow in the dark on the white frame.

Let the watercolors relax for a few days then framed it up.

Invited Autumn and her Mom over for some root beer and . . .

It was a great day.

<3

To protect and serve

Cop Humor

16 hrs · 

As I was watching the news outlets covering the shooting in Dallas, I noticed something significant but not surprising; When The shots rang out, all those protesters ran, and ran quickly away from the sound of the shots, screaming, crying and trampling over each other.

I saw a reporter run to the shots, undoubtedly to get a story. Who else ran towards the shots? Every law enforcement officer in the area!!!

The reporter ran to get the story, but will remain a safe distance from harm. The officers will run and continue to run towards the shots in an effort to neutralize or stop the threat, to save and protect all those people, who were there protesting against the police. Who sacrificed their lives tonight while protecting the protestor's? So far, FOUR police officers killed! There are several reports of police officers shielding protestor's from gunfire with their own bodies!

God bless our police officers. May these officers rest in peace

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
As we mourn the loss of officers in Dallas, I have to ask why we praise the police for doing their job. That is not to say that I don't back the blue I do! After events involving police I often see a post praising the police for rushing toward the danger. In other words, doing their job. Yes the police will be running toward the danger and that is part of their duty to protect and serve. Yes their job is more dangerous than mine but it should in no way elevate any police officer above that of any citizen. We should all be on a level playing field and over and over we are painfully aware that we are not.

Similarly this is how often times a sports figure who is on the wrong side of the law is not held to the same standard as an average citizen no matter what crime is alleged. The punishment if any is a slap on the wrist rather than the standard of due process. A bad actor is a bad actor. It does not and should not be attached to the occupation of the individual nor should a victim be further victimized or have additional harm done or be minimized based on any previous criminal record.

I believe any officer who exhibits going above and beyond should be individually recognized and all police officers are required to live by the same laws of the land. It is also my belief that the best way we can support our officers is to stop instigating and agitating to make it a black or white issue when it is black AND white or more often lately black and blue.

I was fondled by a policeman who lived next door when I was younger so I know not all "cops" are good. I had a very cool family oriented neighbor who was a cop so I know all cops aren't bad. I have black friends and coworkers who are loving caring people so I know not all blacks are bad. We have obviously taught ourselves and others to paint with a broad brush. This leaves no way to include details. We live in a world of color not black and white. And each color has a different hue. There are shades of red, blue, green, purple. The world is a rainbow of color. Let's work actively to live together, out loud in the open instead of hiding or retreating to our box. Talk with your neighbor, meet someone new at your church, start a group or club that promotes kindness, love and understanding. Neighbor to neighbor, heart to heart make your part of the world a better place.

I am white but I am so much more than the color of my skin. We all are.

Love is kind. 

Use your voice, your gifts, your talents to move us to higher ground.

With kindness and in love, stand up.

H. U. G. S. (Humans Utilizing Gifts Successfully)

Breakfast with Sue

My sister needs help, she's confined to her thoughts
She fails to see kindness wherever it's brought
Alone in her thinking, with only her view
How do I reach her, what's a little sister to do

We meet at the restaurant engage in conversation
But it soon takes a turn sparking her aggravation
I said something to which she does not agree
She stares intently just glaring at me

More coffee, more water, no thank you we're done
What was I thinking my sister lacks fun
Check please and hurry, just so much to do
This was my breakfast with my sister Sue

She'd rather be right no matter the cost
But I'm grown too, she's no longer my boss
I'll check with her later, see if she's free
I long for the closeness of my sister and me

Kiddo, Uncle Sonny, Mother, two Dads and counting

What triggers your memories?

I will always think of Kiddo, my grandmother every time I hear a soprano sing in a church choir above all the other voices. No matter how many or how loud others were singing, we could always hear Kiddo sing above all the others. Both my Great Uncle Sonny and my father-in-laws passing have left such deep wounds they have yet to heal and I expect there will still be a wound when it is my turn to leave this earth. Yellow ribbons. That's just one of my memory triggers for Uncle Sonny. Up to the time of his passing, he was the only man in my entire life that had never left me. I loved him unconditionally as a child and looked forward to each weekday morning of burned toast, oatmeal, and Tang.
I so wanted him to stay I tied yellow ribbons on his hospital bed rail in hopes he would see my signal and stay just a bit longer. Just one more kiss and hug. Just one more. I cried for days and wrote a poem that I placed in his jacket pocket on the day of the funeral. It was the only option left to say goodbye. I miss him.

I still see the pain and anguish on my father-in-laws face before he was moved from the hospital to hospice. I would feed him Jello and try to make him laugh but each day he slipped further and further and soon his whispered voice spoke no more. When I just couldn't watch him suffer needlessly anymore I said "Dad, your breaking my heart! You don't have to be a hero. Please Dad let them give you the pain medicine." I still have the memory of his anguished face. Especially his face but his whole visible body flushed with red as he nodded his head in agreement. He was hurt for causing my heartache and my heartache was from seeing his pain. Four years later and it still brings tears to my eyes. I raced to the nurses station and told them he had agreed to take pain medication. For now I will embrace this memory and hope for a happier one to emerge.

The smell of fresh asphalt resurrects memories of my Dad. Mother left me with her image and I see her reflection not mine each time I look in the mirror. And there are a couple of songs, The Lion Sleeps Tonight also known as "Wimoweh", Teach Your Children Well a song by Graham Nash that keep her memory alive in me.

My Aunt June, my favorite Aunt June left this world just recently and I will never look at a Minion or crayons the same.  I was honored to speak at her funeral. She was a delight to know and easy to love. Her passing has elevated me to a full fledged adult but I still want to be like her when I grow up.

Physically gone but our circle of family and friends will live forever in the memory of our hearts and minds. Those sweet memories that come unexpectedly bring the most joy. I believe that it is the memory of our loved ones that create sparkle in the world. The sky, the stars, lakes, rivers, streams and oceans. Maybe that is why I am drawn to shiny things . . .

Love is kind (and shines forever).

Mother to Mother

The life and times of yours and mine
Mothers young or old the love light shines

Days go by, then weeks and years
And through it all we shed some tears

A child is born or a loved one dies
We gather together with bleary eyes

We live, we laugh, we dance and sing
We celebrate the simple things

A school recital a game a play
A family reunion that lasts all day

Family is the root of the tree
Providing fruit, the shade we need

Family is there when others are not
Mother to mother ready or not

   

Why tears are heavy

Ever wonder why tears are so heavy?

Tears are often contagious and on the outside they give the impression they cause harm. So much so that our first reaction is to try to make them stop. Our own tears or tears of a family member or friend we mostly react the same. We want them to stop but tears have healing properties if you just let them fall. For me, in my life, tears water my soul. They prevent me from drowning in sorrow when ravaged with grief. Soothe heartache (which often goes unnoticed to my mind because it can be a very, very, slow process). And over time tears dilute regrets so they sting less. Tears have the power to carve a path for remembrances to spontaneously erupt with unabashed laughter. Much like a playful dolphin breaking through the surface, dancing in the air briefly with pure joy.

Ever wonder what causes that sparkle on the water? I'm not a scientist but I am certain it is the light of joy emitting from millions of shared moments of lives and love lost but not forgotten.

Tears are meant to be and they do good work. So when I grieve, if you feel comfortable to do so, do give me a hug, a shoulder to lean on, squeeze my hand tightly so I can feel the strength of your heart with mine. Know my sorrow is mine. My grief is mine. If I have anger it too is mine. You cannot "fix" me nor I you but together we can share those memories and hold each other up and I will honor your grief, your pain, and your anger in kind.

For those who have fresh wounds know that love never dies and wherever they are they will love you from there just as you will continue to love them from here.

"I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

- J. R. R. Tolkien

Love is kind (often tearful), and I'm ok with that.

Crayons, Coloring books and Bob

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).