getting there: loss

I lost my Aunt Mikell today. She gave me a lot of life fodder, but one of the simplest, most impactful conversations we ever had was while I was in a regrettable relationship. She asked who I was dating. I told her I was seeing someone that it probably wouldn’t work out with (alcoholic, verbally abusive, couldn’t keep a job, controlling, unstable, myopic, conservative…male – I didn’t say all of that, but I’m referencing for context). She asked me directly, candidly, unflinchingly, without beating around the bush, as she was prone to do, what I wanted in a partner. I, weirdly, had never been asked that or never explicitly asked that of myself. I hesitated, uncomfortably, for about 15 seconds, then stuttered some generic bullshit, and then she cut me off and said abruptly, “how in the hell are you going to find what you’re looking for if you don’t even know what you want?” I laughed and told her she was right, as I was prone to do (knowing there was ZERO arguing with Aunt Mike), and I moved fluidly throughout the rest of my day. But her words sunk further into my thoughts, and I realized the answer was simple all along.

I guess I’ve been holding my breath for the last two years. I’ve been waiting to hear this news. This barely 5′ human with a will the size of Pangaea would be gone from this realm, and even though we only talked a few times per year, I can no longer count her as one of my aids. This earth could not contain the bravery and the sheer fortitude this woman possessed. These were my last sentiments to her:

Aunt Mike,
I heard you’re not doing so well. I hope you are at peace. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. If you could, you would probably roll your eyes, but I still need to tell you how much you changed my life and how much you inspired some of my most formative life events and moments. Not only are you my favorite aunt, but you are one of my favorite people of all time. I was always in awe of you. How strong minded and brave you are. How funny and smart and beautiful and kind you are. It’s truly astounding. You never back down from an opportunity to tell someone how it is, and even when people don’t want to hear it, you’re almost always right. You stand up for what you believe in, and you taught me the value of participating in local politics and community. I’ve always looked up to you. You taught me about yoga and how to breathe with my belly and how to stretch, and mostly, how to stay interesting. You shared all the cool things about Alaska that I would have never discovered on my own, and ultimately, you are the reason I am still here. It breaks my heart that I’ve missed the last few years with you. I felt robbed when you left Alaska because you were my guardian and my friend. But no matter how much time passes, you will always be in my heart, even when I’m old and my time comes. And all I can do is be grateful for the time I had with you – getting to know you. What a gift that is. I have a photo from you of the time Malea and I came to visit you in Alaska as kids. The quote you attached to the photo says, “PRIORITIES: One hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove, but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child.” I just wanted to tell you that you made a monumental impact on this child. So much so that I can’t even begin to describe it. My story isn’t finished yet, but you will always be a part of it. Thank you for being you. I love you, Aunt Mike, and I always will.