Somewhat unexpectedly, and with a whirlwind of haste, my lovely aunt died this afternoon. Fortunately, we were able to spend some precious time with her, and chat, as families always do, over her and around her as we recounted tales of days gone past, and despite the heaviness in the air, looked ahead to another tomorrow. There was laughter and there were tears, and even when the priest conducted the last rites there was a sense of future, a belief that there were still conversations to be had.
There will of course be another tomorrow, but it’s tinged with melancholy that my aunt’s presence on the journey will be in a different form. She’ll be there, but as a memory, a life beyond touch. This is a woman loved so deeply by so many that I know she will have felt that at its most intense today. A wonderful mother, grandmother, great grandmother, aunt and of course sister to my mother, she shaped so many lives.
Lives whose weight will shift and bend, leaning towards the soft arms and broad shoulders of one another as the rawness rubs away at such an unexpected theft.
When time stops so abruptly we tend to poise for a moment and reflect. The landscape feels disfigured, the sheer scale of the uncertainty in everything penetrates your chest like a silent sea. Wind battered under a slate grey sky we wait for the denseness to shapeshift, our sorrow sailing softly on the hush of an ocean wave.
To everyone missing someone today, I wish you warmth.
Margot McCuaig 