Last night Byron texted from an unknown airport and said Oh man. CRUSHING and sudden grief about Mary dying. Tears! Tears!!
I haven’t cried yet, but that might have something to do with the fact that it was an event I have been anticipating my entire life. The hard part isn’t the fact that she died, or how she died, but instead the notion that she isn’t around any longer.
I am horribly sad but continue to make plans, work, cook dinner, stare at my emotions as they flicker on and off.
In my journal I wrote: Mary died. Mary is dead. Which phrase looks more accurate?
I’ve always missed her, the real her, the best and most amazing Mary, my startling and hilarious and beloved aunt. That feeling will never be resolved.