The girls and I are making wishes at the botanic gardens, blowing old winter leaves up into the spring sky. I ask them what they wish for. Their responses:
Nya: “I wanna marry all the cuties. Even you Seylah!”
Seylah: “I want to have a fun time in the Philippines.”
What do I wish for? For people to stop dying.
My Aunt La, Saxon’s great aunt, is on hospice here in Denver. I said goodbye to her yesterday at the hospital. I cannot stop crying. She is my person here in Denver. She came to every Unsent show with her oxygen tank. She never complained, she was so calm, positive, loving, and intuitive.
I first met her at Seylah’s baby shower at Saxon’s mom’s house. It was the first time meeting his entire family. I was very pregnant and completely nervous. Aunt La sat at the head of a long table. I was on the other end. About 30 people between us. She called out to me, “How old are you?”
“Oh, um, I’m 36.”
“Isn’t that a little old to be having your first baby?”
“Well, there’s not much I can do about it.”
A little later, she asked me to make her a plate. She was ready to go home early. I brought it to her. She asked for more cobbler. From then on, we were close. I suppose I passed the test. She later told me that she was 36 when she had her first child. So there we are.
She was the one who calmed me down during the pandemic. She’s the one I talked to most easily at every family function. She’s the one who called me when she read what I wrote on Facebook - that my girls chose me to be their mother. She was very excited about this notion. She said I must be a witch, like she was. Yes, yes I am. She was touched, gifted, cosmic. If I thought about her, she called. If I said her name, she called. She was so completely here. And now, she is leaving to somewhere else.
I will miss her so much and I wish I could tell my mom about her. I hope they find each other in the rainbow. I pray so hard for her family and all those she’s leaving behind. While she is ready to go, it feels impossible to let her go. My chest hurts, where grief lives.
Meanwhile…
My godmother, who helped me through my mother’s cancer, has cancer. She has already been holding so so much. And now her husband, my uncle, has cancer. He is now on hospice. He has said his goodbyes. Life will never be the same for my aunt or my cousin. My heart breaks for them.
It never happens how you think it’s going to happen. Ever. Saxon says that’s why he tries to think of all the bad things that could happen - so they won’t. If only we could control anything…
And there’s more.
My other godmother will never be able to live alone again after she suffered a brain injury, so we’ll visit her at her care home and hope to bring her a little joy. Even if she doesn’t know who we are, she’ll know we love her. A devastating loss. She was also my person. I want to tell her about all of this loss! I want to tell her that I just found all my mom’s Notes on her ipad. I can’t stop reading all her lists of books to read, films to watch, things to do before her trip she never took. My heart.
And. My dear friend’s father passed away yesterday. Another dear friend lost her friend from college. Another dear friend lost her father to cancer a few months ago. Another friend lost her husband. Another lost her grandmother. Saxon’s mentor died suddenly on Monday. And I might be forgetting people here. Not to mention all the innocent people being killed in war and genocide around the globe.
Loss, loss, loss….of companies, friendships, identities, writing groups, of opportunities…even the loss of my young children becoming older. It’s always and only change.
I know this is just one season. I also know the longer you live, the more you love, and the more you grieve.
Goodness. It’s such a short trip. I hope we can hold each other close.
If you pray, or meditate, or light candles, or do anything connected to spirit, please put energy out there for the peaceful and pain-free transition of all our loved ones on their way to becoming our ancestors. And for those they leave behind.
What a trip, to be in these bodies on this planet. I feel more connected to my people, more grateful, and more present, than I ever have. A gift in the rubble.
And still, no words for any of this. I try anyway.
Thank you for being alive with me here. And thank you to all our ancestors - past, future and present.
Love, B
I read this today. I feel compelled to share it with you. Perhaps it will resonate with you.
" In life you will always be faced with a series of God ordained opportunities, problems and challenges and those are the life defining moments."
Sounds really overwhelming. I'm sorry you are experiencing so much grief at once. Our grief is our love without a place to go, as explained by Tori Hartman. You should be proud for maintaining your own mental health through it all.