A Year of Big Loss

I have had several years that just seem to be filled with loss. When I say "loss" what I mean is losing people I have loved in my life. The first person I lost, the first one whose loss I felt deeply, was my grandmother. She died in 1988. In the grand scheme, I guess I was lucky that the first real loss I felt occurred when I was 35. Grandmother had lost a baby at Christmas back in 1928 when she was just 17. The baby was only 5 weeks old. What a tragic loss that surely was, and in fact, Grandmother grieved for that baby all her life, never liked Christmas much because of the memories that came back to her during the holiday. It was appropriate then, I suppose, that Grandmother died on Christmas Eve. 

The next loss was when my grandfather died in 1991. We were scheduled to have lunch the next day. I really hate that I missed having that lunch with him. We'd had a few before that, and I had begun to feel like I was really getting to know my Pop on a one-to-one, adult level. He is missed.

And then came 1995, the first big loss year. I lost my mother that year, but also an uncle and an aunt, and a friend so close and dear to our family that it felt like another uncle. And then there was a long reprieve, before 2011, a tragic year with the loss of Wayne's best friend and two days later his son and only child. It was a year of bereavement that lasted well into 2012 and beyond. In fact, losses like that leave you changed, with a piece of yourself forever broken. But as Hemingway says, The world breaks everyone but afterwards many are stronger in the broken places. --Or something like that. It's not an exact quote.

My dad died in 2013. Yes, he was going on 89 and had lived a long, and mostly healthy, life. He had traveled widely and always kept a mind that was open and honest. I lost my guiding star when he died, and it took me many months to be able to wake in the morning without that crushing loss pressing on my chest. I still miss him, and not a days goes by that something doesn't happen that I want to share with him. In fact, after his funeral, when we were driving from Corpus Christi back to Yoakum, I kept thinking how when we got there I would have to call him to bring him up to date on how all the family members and friends we had seen that day were faring. It was something I always did after a gathering that he missed. He would have loved to have known that some of the people we had for so long in our lives were there to honor him. I can't believe that's been nearly six years ago.

And now I come to 2018. Another year of big loss. Mother always used to say that death comes in threes. Sometimes it comes even more than that, but I'm going to hold her to that rule of three because this year we have already lost three and that's enough. First my brother, Ray, another casualty of cancer, the scourge of our time. It's haunting to watch a death from cancer. Both Mother and Ray struggled to the end. Nothing peaceful about it. I was left with nightmares again that lasted into the summer. And Ray was too young, just 69, only a few years older than Mother.

And then Wayne's mother, Loraine, died. She was 95, another long life, but still missed, most especially for how she was before she began to deteriorate. She always reminded me of Mother, neither of them had a good filter and often let their mouths overload. They were both feisty and funny when they didn't mean to be.

Finally, at the end of last month my uncle, Ron, died, another gone too young at 74. Ron was part of my childhood. He took my dear sweet youngest aunt away from me, or so I thought at the time. They made me the flowergirl at their wedding, to ease the transition a little, I think. Ron seemed to accept that I, along with my brother, just came with the deal. We were always hanging out at their apartment on campus at UCC. We used to swim at the big pool there. And there are many many more memories, almost all of them fun memories. Funerals have become family reunions, a place where you get to see all those old friends and relatives who have played such an important role in your life. It's good to catch-up, to reminiscence. Seems that there is usually lots of laughter after a funeral, and the aftermath of Ron's memorial was no different. The only thing missing was Ron, with his big hugs and hello, his corny jokes, and stories about something he had just read or learned. He and I shared a love for reading history, and we often compared notes and traded books. I will miss that.

I guess the thing we all have to do--and it's so hard to remember--is to each and every day appreciate and cherish those we hold dear. I know that sounds like an old cliche, but boy-hidy, life really is short. It's no kidding about smelling those roses. We have to do that, and to be grateful for the people we have in our lives and the times we get to share with them. It truly feels just like yesterday I was that flowergirl in my aunt's wedding, or that I was bringing my newborn sons home from the hospital, or trying so hard to write a book that might get published, or meeting my darling Wayne for that first date at Olive Garden, or starting this blog, for that matter. Times, they do fly!

Onward...