Saying Goodbye

I've been rolling this post around in my head for the past twenty-six days, since my aunt died. Each day my thoughts have grown and developed and on some occasions caused floods of tears to crash over me.

My dear aunt, Marguerite Broyles, died on December 6, 2011. That hard fact crushes my heart every time I acknowledge it. Today the fact that we've started a new year and she isn't in seems unbelievably daunting.

On the other hand I'm am so grateful to have had a wonderful relationship with her and countless memories of joy and love. While her cancer was brutal, it provided an opportunity for me to spend more time with her over the last two and a half years than I would have otherwise. We did yoga and energy work, had pedicures, ate yummy lunches, read poetry, laughed, cried, and spent many hours exploring the meaning of it all. She was also able to get to know my boys even better and inspire and foster their own creativity.

In October we had a little send off party for her as she ended her cancer treatments and headed off to get the most out of the time she had left. Along with laughing, eating, wearing sparkly bracelets and bindis, we wrote her a note on sweet little scrolls my stellar shopper cousin discovered. It was hard to get started, knowing it might be the last thing I ever wrote to her.

I laughed at myself as I realized all the memories I was writing were about food...a giant (to my little girl eyes) wooden bowl full of cherries in her kitchen, summertime Coke Slurpies on the way to lake in the huge Pontiac Bonneville I would later drive as a teenager, crusty bread and chunk of Jarlsberg cheese, Christmas Eve shrimp (in my pre-vegetarian days), and biscuits and egg gravy on Christmas mornings, yum!

When just over a month later we realized she was in her last days, I was so fortunate (thanks Mom!) to be able to spend a few days with her holding her hand, chanting to her, giving her Jin Shin treatments and just being with her. I was also blessed to spend those days with my dear cousins, my other fabulous Aunt and Uncle, and playing princess and doing "crafts" with her darling granddaughter, Madi.

After returning home we decorated for Christmas and the many holiday gifts she had given us over the years flowed out of our storage boxes. My aunt was a gifted artist and had a knack for finding or creating fabulous holiday decorations of which I was so often the benefactor. It was lovely putting them out, honoring her gift with each placement.

The kicker came this weekend as I began taking down the decorations. It was as if I was saying goodbye with each item I packed away, a task for which I was not prepared. Talk about an opportunity to practice letting go!!

I'd been in an emotional fog for the past few weeks, having noticed Christmas Eve that it had lifted when I hadn't even really known it was there in the first place. I just knew I could only process a day or two at a time, so planning for holiday gatherings was a bit of a challenge.

The process of packing away each item, each little piece of her, allowed me to truly grieve and release so many of those tears that had been waiting around for me to notice them. I was both heartbroken and full of gratitude, knowing that each year all of those pieces of her will return to our home surrounding us in her light and beauty.

Now, as I walk around my house I continue to see her everywhere, in places I hadn't noticed in awhile. The little driftwood house on the mantel made from her beloved beach in Puerto Morales. The metal and rock person sitting above the desk from her scrounging through hardware store days. The quote on the bathroom wall - "Go in the direction of your dreams, the universe will support you." The countless beaded necklaces and bracelets she made me for my birthdays over the years. The art she made from a silly conversation with my boys this fall, "Peace, it's what's for dinner," and "Got Peace?" And finally the Colorado key chain she made in the 1980's that I touch and carry with me every day. Her diverse and boundless creative inspiration has decorated my life.

In the hospital one day during her battle with the ovarian cancer, that finally took her life but ironically gave me many wonderful hours with her, she asked me why everyone kept coming to see her. She was truly astonished that she meant so much to so many. I told her, "It's because you accept us all as we are, unconditionally."

She was that person for so many of us. The one whose face lights up when she sees you, has nothing but good things to say about you, is always interested in and excited about what you are doing, and who never doubts that your dreams can come true. She had her many flaws as all of us do, but she was perfectly herself and we couldn't ask for anything more. We all need that person in our lives who gives us the gift of loving us for our true authentic selves. I am honored and grateful and blessed to have had her as my adventurous, creative, smiling, laughing, dancing, singing, amazing aunt. 

I am saying goodbye to her body, but not to her spirit. It lives on through her beautiful art and through each of us. May we pass that grace on to others in our lives, offering a shining light to them.

With gratitude and love, Namaste my dear Aunt Mag.

Perfect Moment Monday: Hospital Humor

I took Walkingstick and Gigglebox to visit my aunt yesterday in the hospital as she recovers from brain surgery and continues her epic journey through ovarian cancer and its many incarnations in her body.

My aunt lit up upon seeing the boys and we all hugged and giggled together. We talked a little about the day and the next steps she was expecting. Then Walkingstick stepped up to the bed with a sly grin on his face. "A pan of muffins was in the oven," he began. "One muffin turned to the other and said, 'It sure is hot in here.' The other muffin turned and screamed, "Ahhh! A talking muffin!'"

We all busted up laughing at his silly eleven-year-old joke. His eyes twinkled with the thrill of making her, and the rest of us, laugh. Mine twinkled with the wonder of my sweet boy and his ability to bring joy and humor into this surreal and difficult situation.

His humor allowed us to be fully present in that moment. Not sick, worried, exhausted...just family loving and being there for each other in one perfect moment. 

Facing Challenges

It's amazing how we all handle the challenges life throws at us in different ways. For the most part I am constantly amazed at the strength and perseverence I am honored to witness from the people in my life.

My dear aunt was thrown another curve ball in her journey through ovarian cancer. Her doctors unexpectedly diagnosed her with three brain tumors and whooshed her off for brain surgery the next day. In the brief in between time she said to me, "I guess I have another lesson to learn." An unbelievably optimistic and courageous response in the face of such daunting news. I suggested neon signs were a more effective means of communicating what we need to learn, but the universe apparently thought otherwise.

The thing about her perspective is that is a good reminder that we all have lessons to learn in this process. We also have choices about how we will respond to this new challenge before us. Choices about how we support her and each other, whether we hold hope or give up, whether we view the struggle as part of the journey or as an unbearable burden, and whether we remember to treasure each moment with the ones we love valuing them for who they truly are or buy into the roles and stories we have created for ourselves and each other. Our responses impact how we will come through this crisis as well as how she will.

Sharing all of this with my sons has been both difficult and beautiful. Telling them what was happening seemed brutal and scary when everything was so up in the air. Yet they responded with tears and hope and an immediate desire to see her and support her. They have been able to go on with their days while still offering love, support, and understanding to each other and to me when one of us was struggling. They have shown me that they can be as strong and courageous in the face of adversity as my dear aunt has been.

For everyone facing adversity, no matter how big or small:
May you be safe.
May you be happy.
May you be healthy.
May you have peace.
May you awaken to the light of their true nature.
May you be free.

Namaste