Grief is strange

Grief is strange. It brings out the good and the not-so-good in us, and every degree in-between. It can feel all-consuming and hollowing. It brings us together, while also causing us to feel very, very alone.

The passing of my aunt last week caused an experience of grief I wasn’t expecting. My aunt was a strong, charismatic, beautiful woman who fought (and won) more battles than a single person should ever have to in a lifetime. She had the best laugh, and exuded love. An aunt through marriage - which ended when my cousins and I were little kids - didn’t change the fact that she was MY Auntie Denise, and more like family to me than some who I share DNA with.

I wasn’t surprised by the sadness I felt for losing her. I wasn’t expecting everything else it brought up - guilt for not having visited her sooner, anger at my Dad for our relationship, loneliness for my cousins who lost their Mum, and fear of losing my mom, too, someday. As an adult, experiencing a death tends to awaken the sadness I feel for losing my grandparents at a young age. But today, I feel sad for the future.

I’d like to say I took the best care of myself this past week. But I didn’t - I didn't move much or eat the healthiest foods. I showered only a couple times, and didn’t go to bed before midnight. And I cried, alot. I talked about Auntie Denise; laughed at good memories, and cried some more. I hugged my Mom every time I saw her. We cried together. So no, I wasn’t the picture of self-care, but I think I did the best I could.

I don’t expect the grief to simply end. It will ebb and flow, and continue to shift as time goes on. The love I feel for my aunt will never end, nor will the other feelings I am experiencing from her passing. But it turns out that the grief I feel for the future is just a tough reminder of how wonderful things are right now.

Thank you, Auntie Denise, for that amazing reminder. I love you.