I am standing by the seashore
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze
and starts for the blue ocean.She is an object of beauty and strength,
and I stand and watch
until at last she hangs like a peck of white cloud
just where the sun and sky come down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, 'There she goes!
Gone where? Gone from my sight - that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar
as she was when she left my side
and just as able to bear her load of living freight
to the places of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
'There she goes! ' ,
there are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout :
'Here she comes!'
Parable of Immortality
Henry Van Dyke
She is gone. Her days are now filled "dancing in heaven, even as we are crying below", and I rejoice that she is no longer in pain. I know God had his hand in her death just as he had his hand in her life. Patrick said last night that "We all feel so blessed that she lived hours longer than they said she would, that Anna got home in time to see her is such a miracle. But, if you think about it... she lived seven years longer than she should have. That's the real miracle."
I can't believe how blessed I am to have been a part of her family. I marvel in their strength. I was so scared to come home and see my always-joking, forever-laughing family torn up in sadness. Walking in that door, I saw my always-joking, forever-laughing family grieving in complete strength. And they were still laughing.
We sat around her room, passed m&m's and laughed about the time Sam and Pat shot an arrow into someone's house. Oh, how angry Aunt Lori was... and at the time, my mom told her she'd laugh about it one day. I think she's sitting up in heaven, laughing about it today. We talked about how she was with her brother now, and how he's probably giving her a noogie in heaven, because even in the afterlife, that's still her big brother. We laughed as we cried, missing her terribly but knowing peace because she is in heaven with her God.
I'm sort of speechless. Just... no words. I know she needed to go, I know she was ready. Her body was only holding her back. But just because she was ready to go, doesn't mean that I was ready to let her. I miss her so much... I owe so much of myself to her. She taught me to ride a bike, teased me often and took care of me constantly. She and my mom instilled their midwestern sass in my heart. She made me laugh so often, it only makes sense that her absence makes me cry.
I hurt for my grandparents, who have now had to bury two of their children. Dave Matthews is right, you should never have to bury your own babies. And yet, they powered through. Grandma still made sure there were snacks available, Grandpa just sat with his peaceful presence, though I know he's torn to pieces inside. And Clarabell, my Aunt's golden retriever... I have never seen her that way before. She knows, I know she knows. She sat with my aunt for days on end, and when the nurse came to change her fluids, clara went nuts. She barked and snapped-which is so not her-left the house, and didn't come back for the rest of the day. Now that my Aunt is gone, Clara is just depressed. I went upstairs to see her, and she was just laying on the floor in Sam's room. She didn't stir when I walked in. Dogs are so intuitive, she knew this was coming, but she misses her mama just as much as the rest of us.
I'm so thankful for the people who have opened their hearts to us at this time. My roommates and friends at school have been more incredible than I ever could have asked for. They have listened when I needed it and laughed when I needed them too. They have been their for me far and above the call of duty. And Julie, I honestly don't know what I'd have done without her. The patience she's had to stay up with me and just listen to me talk about my aunt, my family as a whole...it means the world to me. I have been shown more love than I know what to do with, and I trust that my God will keep it coming.
Uncle Kevin said she died without distress. It was calm and peaceful, and she was surrounded by family. He said that the family has been pretty distressed, but I guess that's the way death works. The ones left behind are the ones that have to deal with the sadness of something missing.
According to my Uncle, If my Aunt ever even got close to complaining about her cancer cutting her life short, it was because she still felt that she had work to do on earth, mainly concerning her children. But as I looked around the room last night, I saw a family who's roots were strong enough to carry them through the rest of their lives, and that's because she worked so hard to dig into the ground and plant them deep. I know they will miss her every day. I know we all will. But she is still here. Still loving them. Still loving all of us. As that poem says her "diminished size" is in us, in our eyes. She is just as big as she ever was, and now she isn't plagued with a cancerous body that stops her from being the amazingly active person that she is. She gets to live outside now, 24/7. I'm sure she's at the beach today, I'm sure she'll be at the beach every day from now on.
I can't wait to go to the beach with her again some day soon.
