Heavy.

Hi darlings.

Well I had planned on writing part 2 of my last post.
But the events of the last few days caused to come to come to this computer quite unexpectedly.

Well the good news is, I became an aunt again!
To a beautiful little girl - so exciting for my brother and his growing family.
It's nice when there's something "bright" happening in our lives after such a difficult year.

The next morning, my cousin Gary and his daughter Jaclyn were on the radio live in Toronto discussing donations to a charity on behalf of Alison's memory.  You could hear the pain in everyones voices including the morning show announcers - Christmas will be tough.

I dosed back off after listening online, and awoke to find out about the shootings in Newtown.
The blanket of grief that has covered us since Alison's death came back in floods.
(I was emotional enough after hearing my family on the radio, but I was also really proud.  To use a tragedy to help others is God in action right there)

The death of a young person just hits you at a different angle once you've experienced it in your own life.  Nothing is ever the same.  It's a punch in the stomach.  (In fact the same sentiment was echoed by comedian Chelsea Handler in a recent interview with Katie Couric.  Her brother died in an accident when she was 10.) 

A family is never the same.

I felt this when my friend lost his sister in August, and then again when my friend's ex boyfriend committed suicide.  News headlines are no different.  I felt sick when hearing about NFL player Torrey Smith's brother dying so young.  Then came the news out of Newtown.

It's unfathomable.

The range of emotions (in just over 24 hours) that happened with the birth of my niece, to hearing my brave cousins on the radio, to the shootings in Connecticut is hard to explain.
It's just....heavy.

I had plans on on Friday evening.
And I thank God because I may not have been able to get out of bed otherwise.

I don't really have any advice or words of wisdom. 
But tomorrow I'll be returning to church for the first time since Alison died.  (And it's the Christmas concert which has me in tears during the BEST of times, so wish me luck)

While a biblical  service can't replace loved ones that went too soon, there is comfort in knowing that we're not alone - and that we grieve together.

Until next week...

We're beautiful like Diamonds in the sky

Rihanna

The Mourning After. Again.

I wasn't able to make it home for Alison's funeral.

It's a long story but my cousin understood as we have family members around the world who could not be there.
Our hearts were so heavy.

For the first time, I believe that my family understood what it's like to be me.
To love so much, but to be far away.
And more importantly - the sheer agony of grieving alone.

Thankfully, I wasn't physically alone.
That weekend, my "bestie" Drew hosted me at his house upstate and took such good care of me.
He has no idea how much he helped.

My dear friend C (who lost her father a year ago) sent me a beautiful card.
She told me that there was a "grace to grieving" and reminded me of the importance of "letting grief in."
She spoke of taking those times of solitude if need be, and to spend some time in nature.

Well.
Yesterday I did just that.
Summer is my favorite season, and on a last minute decision - made plans to go to the beach.
Ah the healing powers of the ocean...it speaks to us you know?

It was there that I received more sad news.

My great aunt passed away in Cape Town.
She had been ill, but not for too long, thank God.
I had to remove myself from the beach blanket and inform my parents...it wasn't easy.

Auntie Naomi.
She was sooo lovely.
So charming, so like her sister, (my late grandmother) and had such affection for us kids.
When my mom last saw her only a few months ago, she asked about me.
"How's my girlie?  Send her my love."

Naturally, I'm in tears again.
Alone.  (Again)

I have been pleasantly surprised by my (newer) friends, who have constantly checked in; a quick text, lunch, phone call, anything.  Unfortunately, some of my "best friends" have really let me down and it breaks my heart.

I get it, death makes people uncomfortable - but excuses ain't bringing my loved ones back.  And for God's sake, we're grown.
(If I take your tearful phone calls in the middle of the night, you can surely take mine.)

It's amazing how through the fog of mourning - we begin to see clearly.
But more on that later.

While saddened, we can take solace in knowing that Auntie Naomi is with her siblings now, laughing away in Heaven, talking about the good 'ol days.
At 87, she lived a good life.

But how do we move forward after losing Alison?
She was only 16 years old.
Most of the shock is gone...and now the sadness really begins.
I cry every night - and for the first time in my life, I truly hate being alone.

My sister said it best:
"People don't understand just how close our family is.."
She's right.

Last night, my 9-year-old nephew who was overwhelmed by all the sad news and asked to call me.
We talked for an hour.
We talked about Life, death, soccer, school, his mean teacher, the Empire State Building, the Olympics,  more soccer, cats vs dogs, the Blue Jays and video games.
(Did I forget anything??)

He later told my mom about the call.
"Granny...I just had the most EPIC conversation with Auntie!  The best phone call of my life!"
Mine too.
Mine too.

I'm thinking of you Lyn.
-xo-

I've  seen lonely times when I could not find a friend

But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again.

~ James Taylor