she's gone...

While on the phone with my mother early this afternoon, my Aunt Phyllis quietly slid to the floor and stopped breathing. Her time in this world had come to its end, I suppose. There at her kitchen table, with her oldest living son forced to watch, her tired body gave in and decided enough was enough. It may have been her heart, though, too. I am not speaking of the cardiac, blood-pumping, life-giving heart, but of the one she gave to my Uncle Jerry many moons ago... the soulful, dream-making, life-worth-living heart.

This beautiful woman's life was lived for the better part of her earthly years loving my uncle, their children, and her family. She lost her oldest son when he was seven, watched her parents pass, watched my grandparents pass, battled Myacenia Gravis, beat breast cancer... three times, struggled through chemo-induced congestive heart failure, and lost her husband and life-long love. As tragic as her years were, there were also many blessings. Four grandchildren, successful sons, life as an artist, amazing friends, the love of a wonderful kitty named Doodles... and a niece who adored her, even though she always lived thousands of miles away.

My aunt told me many times how much I would have loved my grandmother (she passed away shortly after my parents married, and quite a few years before I was born). My mother always told me the same thing, but somehow it had a different meaning coming from my Aunt Phyllis. She knew how much of a connection I felt to my Grandma Genevieve and bridged that gap for me when she could. When my son Collin was born, I received many wonderful gifts from family and friends. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell you today what most of them were, even if my life depended on it (sorry family and friends). I can tell you what Aunt Phyllis gave me, though--a quilt my grandmother made for her first grandson when he was born. Likewise, Michael and I got the best wedding present we could have hoped for from my aunt and uncle... Aunt Phyllis found a quilter who hand-finished a queen-sized quilt top my grandmother had made before she died. I cried as I held it... just as I did when I opened Collin's quilt. I will be forever grateful that Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Jerry made the long trip to Florida (from California) to attend my wedding. I didn't know it at the time, but that was my last chance to be with them both in person. What lives on is their memory, forever etched on my heart. Distance may have kept us from day-to-day closeness, but fortunately heartstrings know no boundaries.

She's gone, and so is a piece of my heart. My only peace comes from knowing how happy my uncle was today. They're finally together again.