A Life Well Lived...

Hi!

I've said before, and I'll say it again, coming from a family as big as mine carries with it a ton of great things, but also some heartbreak.

When you have so many people to love and call family, there are always so many things to celebrate, new babies, weddings, reunions, career accomplishments, birthdays... you get the idea. When you have so many people to love and call family, the heartbreak of losing someone happens far too often. It seems you barely get your feet solidly on the ground, the steps feeling just a bit less heavy, when you find out another loved one has passed.

One such heartbreak happened again this week.

The top photo depicts our Aunt Betty. She had the privilege of turning 85, and the last time I saw her, a few years ago, the grin that always promised just a bit of mischief, was definitely and completely intact. I didn't get to know her as well as I would have liked, as she was one of a kind. 

From my experience of her, this is what I do know.

 She and my Uncle built an incredible life and home, full of adventure, great times, hard times, and absolutely everything in between. She was a wife who worked outside the home before it was the norm to do so. She mothered a gaggle of boys that loved to dip their toes in trouble every now and again with the assistance of a pretty capable right hand, the sole daughter at the head of the group. 

She was so small in stature, but so strong. A tiny badass, with a heart as big as the sky. So much can be learned from her, and those like her, if we allow it to happen. We just have to be ready to let it in. No one reaches 85 without scars, some they speak of, most they don't. 

Times like these bring with them opportunities to mend fences, heal scars, embrace and support each other as family should. It brings chances to celebrate a life well lived, the legacy left behind, and what that can look like. The gift of swapping stories, sharing memories, reconnecting our roots. 

It's an opportunity not to be wasted. 

We are never guaranteed time to reconnect, to laugh, to cry, to mend, to heal. 

Young hearts can only follow the examples they are given, they watch, they observe, they absorb. They learn how to grieve through us, they learn how to handle loss, they learn how to say good-bye to those we love. After the dust settles, they are still there, watching and learning. 

Grief, stepping through it, living in it, and beyond, looks different for everyone. There are no rules, no deadlines, as no two people feel it the same way. In grief, the soul is so heavy and so full, leaving no room for judgment. 

Grief is a privilege only those who know real love are able to experience. The heartache, proof that they mattered. The tears, a gift given exclusively to the lucky who have been blessed to love someone enough to warrant them. 

When we get to the place where their memory brings smiles more than tears, we begin to heal. The grief, though never gone, feels more like a warm embrace, no longer the dagger it once was.

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May you be embraced by those who went before you, arms outstretched to catch you, hold you.

You will be missed more than can be explained. Rest well, Aunt Betty.