A Spiritual Departure

This morning, as I woke up, it felt as though someone, or perhaps more accurately something, had departed from my heart or soul, lessening the burden somehow. It was just the sense of a moment and then it was gone as the cares and concerns of the day began to intrude, but still a more refreshing way to awaken than otherwise could have been the case. I of course wondered if it was possible my poor aunt had passed away just then but, not being "psychic" and all that, I will have to wait to hear either how she is (or is no longer) doing today. The cancer has invaded her brain and caused the vertebrae in her neck to crumble. There is nothing more medical science and compassion can offer. What she has left is the love of her family and their presence as she completes the journey of this life into the next stage of existence, for such it is whatever a person's beliefs may be.

My heart aches for her loss but is also strangely comforted knowing she will no longer have to deal with the devastating results of this horrid disease that has caused her decline and death. She will be truly free from all of the pain and burden the cancer has caused her, finally. That said, I know also that she leaves this life with the regret of having to leave it at all. Mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, she still has so much to experience and look forward to, if only her corporeal being would allow it.

There have been many tears shed and many more will follow in the days to come. I sincerely hope I am able to offer some small margin of comfort and strength to my cousins and uncle who have been, and will continue to be, devastated by the illness and loss of my aunt for quite some time. It is one of life's small miracles that, as we recover from our own losses, we are able to help guide others through theirs if we so choose. I choose.

My cousins will have lost their mother, my uncle his beloved wife, and all of us the love and support my aunt tried to continue giving even through times I am certain she must have felt drained of all positive energy and ability to give, especially following the death of her eldest son, who I hope will be there to give his mother a big hug as she arrives; she will not be alone.

Another of life's small miracles is that, even as we are devastated by yet another loss, our family remains. We endure and survive. A small triumph in the face of our many losses, but still a triumph. We are here, we are together, we survive, and our families with us. It is both a comfort and a fact of life, providing one has yielded sufficient offspring to the environment and one's offspring continue to go and do likewise, but it is still a small miracle considering the intense pain we so often encounter during times of loss and injury or illness.

And so, we wait for news of my aunt. We wait for the pain and tears we know will come, and we try to somehow prepare for what cannot be rehearsed; what will always be an unwelcome shock to our beings no matter how "prepared" we may think we have made ourselves. There will be tears.

I love you, my aunt and my friend. I will miss you greatly. I will always remember what friends you and Mom were and that your friendship endured despite all of the failings and pitfalls so common in extended families. You meant a great deal to my mother and to me. I hope there will be no struggle for you. That your passing will be quiet and peaceful, surrounded by your loved ones, comforted and cradled by their presence.

God bless you and keep you, my darling and loving aunt.