This morning skies are overcast
and dull
it is humid
and I am in need
of time
to empty out the contents
of a tired mind
overrun by
wild monkeys
This morning I am reading about mercy
and kindness,
and how we offer this to others and
to ourselves
I am reading about struggles and questions
and that forever trusted friend, who you call
for comfort, for reassurance or
for reason
Today, in these words I find myself
missing my Aunt Pat, (as I often do)
Today is her birthday
It’s funny, she always used to say to me, in sorting through
the stuff of families, “You should write a book!”
and we would laugh…
yet here I am again,
writing
One of the last times we had a real visit together, my Aunt Pat had been quite sick with what we thought at the time was a rather nasty flu
An overdue, much needed and much appreciated visit for both of us
quality time spent
together
we talked about life and things
and memories, growing up and growing families
and as she had been ill,
the last thing I said to her before leaving after ‘I love you’ of course, I said to her “Well, I am glad to see you looking like yourself” (denoting my great fear of some day discovering that my beloved Aunt and dear, dear friend had suddenly aged)
She stopped me in my leaving, making sure she had my full attention, she said to me,
“but I am not myself Tam.. you know that, I am not …”
And this proved true, as the next time I saw her, very shortly after this was in the hospital and to my (foolish I suppose) surprise in fact, in ICU.
Where I quickly found that she was indeed not herself, she was in fact in the very definite and very real stages of dying.
Over the next four days I came to realize that in these last words, of fleeting conversation, I had received her greatest kindness – in somehow subtlety preparing me …
for her leaving.
And in this very profound kindness,
she gave me the courage I needed
to let her go,
and in doing so,
to not lose myself in her
passing.
I think of this often, when I think of my Aunt Pat and all that she meant to me (and still does), in the great gifts that she offered me with love, friendship, wisdom and kindness, unfailing support, connection and grounding.
And I hope that I somehow, offered her the same. We buoyed each other I believe, in a sometimes harsh,
yet always hopeful,
and beautiful world.
We weren’t constantly in touch, didn’t talk every day,
but I guess I miss knowing she was there…
maybe in this rush of feeling today, she is missing me too
just now as I am sitting outside in sunshine and the quietness of my garden
to write some thoughts,
a sudden flutter and a flap
and a chickadee lands right on the top left corner
of my laptop
I am startled, and a gasp catches my breath
and then my heart
and then just as suddenly
I am awash
in a flood of tears
my heart pounds
and I allow all of it’s
contents to tumble
out
when this little chickadee comes back
to preen on a branch near me
I catch my breath,
I whisper a Happy Birthday to my Aunt Pat
and
I allow for a few more tears
then
I get up
I seek out my place in the sun
where I raise my face
and my arms
and I
say
thank you
I gather up the pieces
of me
as bits of golden sunlight
rain down
to repair the cracks
I guess, I just miss knowing she was there…
some how today,
this morning,
in sitting with this,
I find the comfort I needed
in knowing…
she
still
is ♥
and to my Uncle John, I love you xx