Oh Megan Dawn,
I just read your blog and tears are running down my old auntie cheeks! What beautiful writing. How horribly tragic to have to leave the arms of your new love(r) and your mother and your bride sister. I might be weeping till you return! Thanks for sharing those words with the world and me. You will be great. You will be fine. You will be strong and good. You are great and fine and strong and good. Know it. And know that your Auntie Marj loves you and weeps with/for you these days of taking your leave. Leaving is hard, but oh, the joy of saying hello. Only those who know the pain of saying good-bye to those we love can know the joy of hello.
Be safe, dear niece.
I love you.
This was the last letter I received from my Auntie Marj. I am overcome with sadness today. Leo looked at me in half horror, half wonder as I wept through my morning dishes, through his slop breakfast and my coffee. It's okay, she is all around us. "I fought tears with every cloud we flew through, wondering if she felt anything on her way to Heaven". Just wind in her sails, Ma. Just wind in her sails. Grief is not something that dissipates quickly, it stews on like soup, opening and closing within like a great tap. Today my grief tap is wide open. Heart pouring, eyes pouring, nose pouring, lots of pain. I hope my sobs don't wake the baby. Jen, Sara, Kate, Billy, Uncle Jim, in the words of your lady: You will be great. You will be fine. You will be strong and good. You are great and fine and strong and good. Know it.
The amount of times I have read those words over and over are innumerable. Marj had such a way with words, such a way with comfort. Distance was never an issue, her love travelled far and wide. I am so sad for everyone that is aching for this woman today, yesterday, three years from now. Right now.
Miss you dearly, tante.