And so, I was quiet the last few weeks because I had no words.
My Aunt Lucy died, and then it was her funeral. And I really wish teleporters were already a thing.
I received word of her death on the way back from dropping Neil off at the ferry for his two weeks in the office.
My Isla asked me, I swear, if I was crying ‘because Aunt Lucy’s in heaven. Can we call her up?’
And even though we visited last year, it hurts when people go and you can’t be there for your family like you want to. The world is small, but miles are long and oceans are huge.
And I honestly didn’t know what to do. Until I wrote her a letter.
This is that letter:
My Dear Aunt Lucy,
It’s hard to imagine the world without you in it, so I’ve been in denial.
There are not enough words for how much you meant to me and all who knew and loved you. The world is a dimmer place today.
Thank you for being my voice of reason. Spending time with you was the highlight of my summers and my life.
Thank you for seeing the best in me and encouraging me to be that. Thank you for helping me write that letter to heaven in 1988, and for reading that poem to my Nana when I couldn’t be there to do it myself. I wish I could be there for you today.
Thank you for all the city trips and airport lifts. Broadway will never be the same.
Thank you for the laughs and the love, even when I thought I didn’t deserve it.
Thank you for all the cards and letters when I moved. Writing this is all I know what to do right now, and thank you doesn’t feel like enough.
Thank you for making me believe that maybe you can go home again. Thank you for welcoming me back like the years hadn’t passed. My nicknames won’t have the same ring to them.
Thank you for all the advice, I tried to follow it all. Especially ‘Marry that one.’ That worked out the best, and I thank you for the nudge.
Thank you also for always knowing how to say my Isla’s name.
Thank you for giving me that good luck charm, and for being my good luck charm.
You made the world a better place, and my life was brighter because of you. If I updated that letter to heaven, there’d be a few more questions I would ask. But for now and forever, I love you, Aunt Lu.
Rest in peace, my favorite.
This was read out at her service.
I’m sharing this to encourage you to write your letters. Your people can read them wherever they are.
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