My Aunt

My aunt passed away from cancer yesterday.

I know now she is cancer-free.

I know now she isn't in pain.

I know now she went in her own home and

not in some strange hospital room.

I know now she is peaceful.

She was diagnosed not too long after my mother died of cancer.

And now, she's left us just a few days shy of the anniversary of my mother's passing.

So I'd like to think that she and my mom are chatting up there,

telling stories and laughing about the brothers they married

and the kids and grandkids they had.

About the lives they had.

This song was written by Karla Bonoff, sung by Linda Ronstadt.

Makes me weepy hearing it.

But it's for my aunt, and for my mom, and for all those I've known and loved

who are no longer here.

Reality? Check.

You go along in life thinking about the mundane things.
Is the leak a plumbing issue, or not?
Will I ever get the leaves cleared out from the yard?
Then you get a dose of reality and it takes your breath away.
My aunt--my father's sister-in-law--was diagnosed with cancer last year. Now she has weeks or less to live.
Next Tuesday is the two year anniversary of my Mother's death from cancer.
I don't think I care about leaks or leaves or stimulus packages or bipartisanship.
Or any crap.
I can only think that one minute we're here, and the next minute we're not.
I can only think that we need to cherish those minutes we have together.
Because one day, you might only have a week's worth of minutes left.