Lovey

On Monday I attended the funeral of my sweet Aunt Paula. Her death was sudden, unexpected, and positively heartbreaking.

Somehow, I just can't wrap my brain around the fact I will never hear Aunt Paula say, "Hello, Lovey." to me again.

Speaking to Aunt Paula was always easy - no matter the topic.

Aunt Paula and I did not speak on the phone often. We normally saved our catching up for family gatherings. However, I do remember one exception vividly.

Many years ago I was undecorating my Christmas Tree alone. For the first time, I was dividing up the Christmas ornaments into "His" and "Hers" boxes. I remember not wanting to answer the telephone when it rang, but I did.  It was my Aunt Paula.

Aunt Paula had just spoken to Mom and learned that my marriage to Robert was ending. Aunt Paula called just to tell me that she loved me and that even though it didn't feel like it at the moment, eventually I would be okay.

Aunt Paula knew first hand how it felt to have your love story not end with "...and they lived happily ever after." She also knew first hand that my mother could be less than understanding in this type of scenario. Of course Aunt Paula was far too gracious to ever actually say that...but she didn't need to. In her own sweet way Aunt Paula was letting me know she was there for me and would fill the role my mother couldn't.

Aunt Paula and I talked for what seemed like hours. By the time we hung up the phone the tree was undecorated and I had even laughed a few times!

Aunt Paula's death has brought back so many memories. Many of which include my mom...and dad.

There have been very few times since Mom died that I have actually been thankful that she's gone. However, this is definitely one of those times.

Years ago my Aunt Paula had the unimaginable task of speaking at her daughter Cecelia's funeral. Aunt Paula ended her eulogy by quoting these lyrics from Garth Brooks' song, "The Dance":

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

Being part of a large, close-knit, loving family brings with it many, many joys. Unfortunately, it also opens you to more heartache. Be that as it may, I can honestly say I wouldn't want it any other way.