It seems redundant to say “rest in peace” to my Aunt Mary. She was one of the most peaceful people I will ever know.
That phrase “quietly devoted” seems old-fashioned, even trite, but it is the first that comes to mind to describe her as a wife. “Quiet” is an understatement. Although that generally expected silence made it extra funny when she got a good eye roll in, or really spoke her mind.
She and my Uncle George raised two incredibly compassionate, generous, and beautiful men. My heart is a mess of spaghetti for my cousins. I can tell them one thing for sure: There is no love like a mother’s love. That damn love is bottomless, and strong. Just like the grief they are feeling. That they have known such mother’s love is a miracle, and one of the only things that matters.
At Christmas, my cousin’s partner organized a Skype date, with the “kids,” grandkids, and my aunt and uncle in California. It was so simple, and such a wonderful gift to see everyone. It occurs to me in this moment, that we Skyped on their 49th wedding anniversary. I’m sorry I forgot to acknowledge the day at the time. So here’s their rad wedding photograph.
We knew Aunt Mary was leaving us. Cancer. Hospice care (at home, thank God). We are all relieved she is relieved of her suffering. But I, for one, would rather the relief came with wellness.
Here’s to a year of cherishing the love we have, while we have it. I love you, Aunt Mary.