Grief is a solitary journey. No one but you knows how great the hurt is. No one but you can know the gaping hole left in your life when someone you know has died. And no one but you can mourn the silence that was once filled with laughter and song. It is the nature of love and death to touch every person in a totally unique way -Unknown
We talk. Marsha, mom, grandma, Camiel, Hannah and I, we all talk. We talk about you. We cry. We laugh. But most of the time it is our own private journey with grief. With grief? Yes…with grief. It, grief is its own being. It comes when you least expect it. It comes completely uninvited. At first, it dragged me everywhere. I had lost all control to it. It was completely unrelenting. With a tight grasp it began to suck away the energy, the will, the love, the trust and the ability to live in each new day. Its pain was sharp and ever-present.
Even after all that, grief, did not kill me. It always left just enough light, enough life and strength to live each day. Grief has always left enough for me to find balance and open my eyes. Then one day, something strange happened. I was okay. I felt strong. I felt clear, alive, open, and at peace. I discovered grief was not trying to kill me, it is resilience. Grief has made me realize how resilient I can be. On this two-year anniversary of your death I am astounded by my resilence. I’ve learned I can live, love, give, trust and be vulnerable again.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not honor you. You are in my thoughts. You are in my smiles. You are in my laughter. You are in the warm touch of my hands. You are in the softness of my lips on a tender cheek. You are in the deep, tight embrace of each hug. You are in every whisper that contains those profoundly tender three words, eight letters…I Love You.
– Always Your Auntie