Several years ago, when I was writing this blog, there was an unanswered question twirling around in my mind - when would I stop? Blogging has always been kind of a healing activity for me, a way to put the virtual pen to express what I felt. Even today, I am constantly working on my communication skills, and for a long time, blogging was the way for me to think out things I felt and wanted to say.
However, I've noticed over the last few years that my need to share what I think and feel here has waned. Most of my recent entries have been about milestones - turning 50, trips to Mexico, and those few poignant moments in life where inspiration struck. I've not had much to say recently, in part, because life is enjoyable, and my relationship with God is in a great place.
But today is another milestone that I'd wish I'd not reached. My heart is hurting, emotions are running high, and as all wives are, mine is worried my heart will burst with sadness. I've tried telling her it's the "after" that hits me - once the services conclude, families are comforted and loose ends are tied up, it is usually then and only then that I grieve - very rarely do I do so in the moment, but this is an exception.
You see my maternal aunt has passed. Anne was always present in my life, regardless of the distance, sending cards, making calls, connecting, even when my own parents were dealing with their personal tragedies, she never failed over those years. And sadly enough, it is just now that I fully realize how much she influenced me.
My dry wit, listening ear, compassionate heart, and genealogical passion are interests we shared, and I'd like to think those are things she passed on to me over the years. The thing you should know is that she was never comfortable with the "grandmother" role and was quick to point out she wasn't trying to replace anyone. And she didn't. But she did fill the empty slots in our lives of those who had long vacated them.
In a little over a week, it's up to me to try and sum her life up in a few words at the funeral. An impossible task to be sure. And I think any of us would like to hope and believe that the impact we've had on others is more than what can be summed up in a 20-minute speech or video. Her impact is, well, immeasurable, and the emotional influence she had on me is oftentimes hard to express. When Karla and Perla both came, she gently reminded me the adjustment they made from one country/culture to another, stating it was a transition she'd struggle with. And in the midst of my tumultuous childhood, she guided me to not take life so seriously. we'd hop in her VW rabbit (powder blue) and blast music over the radio speakers as we (literally) flew down the road. We had good, clean fun, knowing that while it wouldn't fix the challenges, we as children faced, it often gave us the respite we needed.
Her zest for life, humor permeated our conversations, but I noticed a considerable difference after Grandma passed. Makes sense because Anne was her caregiver, but hard just the same to see. I could see that the light in her eyes had dimmed just a little, and despite my best efforts, it would stay with her the rest of her days.
Now, in my heart, I believe she is with Grandma and Grandpa, catching up I'm sure. And one of my comforts as a Christian is that I'll see her one day again.
But, to quote the Gladiator movie, "not yet."
