But she was like my mom ……? Loss doesn’t discriminate. This hurts.
I’ve been wanting to text my aunt.
About spiritual questions.
About how long you cook a pork loin.
About the kids.
About dealing with this new grief.
About the stupid mundane pointless communication.
I want to text my aunt and received ten messages in a row as a response.
I miss the way she always thought of things I had no idea about.
I miss her insight.
Her view on life.
Her nonjudgmental side that maybe I only saw.
I wanted to text my aunt I loved her and I appreciated all she gave to me.
I wanted to say thank you for being my rock, my best friend, and my mom when she couldn’t show up.
I wanted to pause and appreciate all the knowledge she gave so freely.
I wanted to tell her about my baptism without fear that she would be slighted.
I wanted to hear she forgave all my indiscretions and knew that she was loved above all.
I wanted to affirm her strength and be more than I was while she was alive.
It’s been difficult to sit and write about this. If I sit down to put it into words then suddenly in my mind it is beyond real. Although death is all too real somehow the physicality of words on a page feel like a vice grip.
I tried to think back on all the things she’d said to me in the past.
If I should write.
I know she loved and supported me come what may yet I also remember my medium of expression confusing and frustrating for her.
I want to do what’s right for her.
I made the decision/mistake to read through our last few texts. I was overwhelmed with the pure love that still flowed between us even after our last fight. It’s hard to believe I’ll never talk to her again about the kids, food prep ideas, universe ideas, or just bullshit. You would think by now I would be a professional but honestly I am so far from accepting she is truly gone.
All I can say is she is loved.
She is loved.