So many thoughts, so few words. That seems to have been the theme of this weekend past.
My youngest son turned into an adult on Saturday and the world just keeps on turning in exactly the same way, in the same orbit. Yet he has been expecting less and less (and less) of me lately. His grocery wish list is almost "nil". His expectations at meal time? Not much. This is the pitfall of being a child of mine. My children's mouths never start to water when they think of coming home. New clothes? No thank you. Haircut? Maybe later. Then yesterday he made a comment "Now that I'm an adult, I won't cost you as much because you don't have to pay for me any more". Whoa, Nellie. That will come all in due time, my son. For now, you are still in high school and fully dependent upon me. This will not change over night. One day at a time ...
My aunt (Mom's sister) passed away on Saturday. She has not been well for a while now. She was 92 years old. It wasn't her death I was thinking of, it was the memories we collected for Mom's family's book. It was all the stories Mom told me of her sister over the years. It was the "sister relationship" they had over the years. I smile at the thought of the two of them chatting like teenagers on the phone, when they both got a long distance bundle and made the most of that time while the chatting was good.
I have always related to this aunt the most. Her life was not an easy one, yet you would never have known it. She focused on memories of better times. Her memories may have been bittersweet but I never heard her sound bitter.
She was quiet as a child and had a quiet strength about her. She was my hero. I believe I even told her that. We were penpals for a short while but it became hard for her to write back (and she always replied), then she started having trouble with her vision.
I pulled out her letters to me and reread them. I compiled some of the pictures I have collected and made a little "collage". Thoughts of conversations, memories and little things Mom has said over the years wafted in and out and through my mind. I am grateful to have known my aunt as well as I did. I am grateful I stepped out of my small little world and collected her stories, along with the rest of Mom's family's memories.
My heart aches just a little bit that only one of the "authors" of that little book of memories is still with us. I wonder how Mom feels. She describes herself as "stoic" and it is a very good word for her. She is strong and rarely shows weakness or wears her emotions on her sleeve. Yet it feels like "this" could feel different.
The world just keeps on spinning. No matter what happens within the lives of those we care deeply about, the sun sets on one day and shows up bright and early the next morning. The weather may be unpredictable but night and day, one season turning into the next and the fact that "life goes on" is one thing we can always count on.