Monday, May 20, 2013

How Fragile We Are




Spending this morning packing for the funeral of my Aunt Mary Ann.  She was taken from us far too early at the age of 53.

This is such a painful loss.  Just indescribably painful.

At the same time today, I am also packing my "chemo bag," because my first treatment is on Wednesday morning and I doubt I'll be in any frame of mind to pack up my bag after we get home from the funeral on Tuesday.  It's tough to pack a bag for something when you don't fully know what to expect, but I'm doing my best.

Just doing something helps to quell the fretting, which is a blessing in and of itself.

This is all just too much to even comprehend, happening all at one time.  We are all stumbling about like zombies, raw emotion spilling out around the edges at the slightest provocation and clinging to each other for safety when that happens.  I fear that is only going to get worse as the week moves onward.

This is the point where I try to tell myself some pithy, upbeat saying, stiff upper lip and all that rot, et cetera, et cetera.  Except I've got nothing.  Just a lot of numb stumbling forward and not much else.

This will get better.  Somewhere, somehow, I know that it will.  Just not any time in the near future, because this week is just going to be incredibly hard and emotionally difficult and we just have to all get through it somehow together.

With Mary Ann's passing, we have yet another reminder of how fragile we truly are.  This was a shock, another one of those "there has to be a mistake" moments of checking your expectations and your "some day" delays at the door.

If ever there were an argument for carpe diem, it is the last few years in our family, where it has been one thing after another screaming at me to live now and not put anything off until later...because later may never, ever come.

When we lost our sister-in-law Amy a few years ago, I put together a list of lessons that I had learned from her passing, lessons I was going to try to live by going forward.  One of those is especially poignant in relation to my Aunt Mary Ann:

Love really is the answer to almost everything life throws in your path. Cherish it.

Mary Ann had the biggest heart and the best giggler and listener when you needed to be cheered or heard.  Her legacy is one of enormous love and caring for her family and friends.  Truly, who could ask for a better one than that?



(YouTube -- Sting, Yo-Yo Ma, Chris Botti and Dominic Miller performing "Fragile."  Perfection.)

3 comments:

James said...

Christie,

Last week I lost my nephew to Melanoma at the age of 38 who has three adopted boys under age 9. The one thing that came out persistently through all the anguish and suffering was/is the great love that all family members and friends had for Mike, and do have for his family and one another. Just saying "I love you" without embellishment to someone can be the most pure and cathartic experience, both for the giver and the receiver. I imagine, from your writings of the past (FDL- which I followed) and those of today (which I have just discovered) that you are well aware of this phenomena.

And so I wish you and yours the best. I pray that you might have comfort and strength through your trials, and I ask you, as much is possible from across the blogosphere, from a man that you are not acquainted, to believe me when I say simply and sincerely, I love you.

James Downey

James said...

Christie,

Last week I lost my nephew to Melanoma at the age of 38 who has three adopted boys under age 9. The one thing that came out persistently through all the anguish and suffering was/is the great love that all family members and friends had for Mike, and do have for his family and one another. Just saying "I love you" without embellishment to someone can be the most pure and cathartic experience, both for the giver and the receiver. I imagine, from your writings of the past (FDL- which I followed) and those of today (which I have just discovered) that you are well aware of this phenomena.

And so I wish you and yours the best. I pray that you might have comfort and strength through your trials, and I ask you, as much is possible from across the blogosphere, from a man that you are not acquainted, to believe me when I say simply and sincerely, I love you.

James Downey

Christy Hardin Smith said...

James, that is so very sweet. Thank you. (And you are right, an "I love you" can often mean the world, especially when someone else is at the point when they need it most and don't even realize it.)

So sorry to hear about your nephew. Melanoma is a tough bugger to fight, but I'm certain that all the love of family and friends gave him a lot of strength and courage in his battle -- I know it does the same in mine.