If You Mean It, Say It.

This is going to be a quick one. For those of you who want the uplifting post, check out my last one... HERE'S TO YOU MONDAY. It was my old-style HERE'S TO YOU post with dedications. For those of you just wanting the dirt, well there isn't much to tell except the update on my aunt.

She passed away yesterday at 11am. It was a relief. Her organs were shutting down. She was no longer responsive. She had stopped drinking fluids several days before. Her temperature was spiking and she was feverish because her body could no longer control it. The doctors gave her liquid stuff at first and then suppositories, but the latter were painful for her, due to the bone cancer. However, when she stopped being able to swallow there was no other choice.

I knew that she was going when she came to me in a dream the night before and we said our good-byes. I was pretty deeply asleep and don't recall much of the specifics. I do know that she helped work out some of my issues that I was carrying around about my father's death (still). Amazing how we drag that baggage around. I was finally able to let that go and it was a relief. It also gave me some much-needed perspective about what was going on here. There was this part of me that was feeling very left out that I kept missing out on my personal good-bye with her no matter how much time I spent at the hospital. And I was mad about it. It expressed itself as frustration and disappointment, but I was mad.

The times that I did see her she she didn't know me. And that hurt. Every time I felt close to getting my shot at good-bye she didn't know who I was. Everyone else in the family had this big closure and I was walking around feeling extremely left out. You see, we do need closure. As human beings, we crave it. That is the only consolation to a death like this is the getting the chance to say the unsaid things. But I wasn't getting to say them because she never knew who I was. And I was pissed. Other people who hadn't lived here for twenty years and spent near as much time with her had gotten what I missed.

Life just isn't fair. How many times did my dad say that to me when I was a kid? Well, if I a had a nickel I would be a rich woman.

After I had that dream, it all stopped mattering. Life isn't fair. But her spirit knew who she missed her good-byes with and she was making the rounds. I wasn't left out.

Isn't that what we fear the most? Being left out. Not important enough for that last good-bye. You see, I am lucky. I am blessed. God has given me this gift that I remember my dreams. I know who from the Other Side (or almost Other Side) comes to visit me and I remember. And maybe she knew that. Or not. But, I wasn't unimportant. And we had this amazing conversation that I can't quite recall, but I remember enough of to make this huge difference in my life.

Just like all of the conversations with my dad after he has passed have made this huge difference in my life.

My aunt has told me hundreds of times that she loves me. Every single one of those times was just as important as that last time. Yet, it is the last time we remember because it is the LAST time. The lesson here is that we need to start saying it more if we mean it. You never know when the last time will be the last time. Every time is important. Not everyone remembers when their dead relatives visit them in their dreams to give them that closure that they desperately need. So, if they EVER said it and truly meant it, then it counts. You made a difference. You were loved.


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