Sunday, January 22, 2012

One Year

It’s been a year since my great aunt, Irva died. In some ways, it’s still as hard and hurtful as it was on that day. She was one of a kind, a truly great lady in all nuances of the word. There will never be anyone like her.

All my life, no matter what was going on, I knew, without question or doubt, that Irva was proud of me. She was happy to have me in her family. Even when she had no option but to say no to one of my schemes, she did it in such a way that I knew she was still with me. She was funny and smart and classy with a devilish streak in her that showed in the least expected moments. She was strong and full of quiet determination. She was my Irva and I adored her.

She’s the only person who has read ALL of my books. Yes, even the first ones that are decent stories but so disastrous they should never see the light of day. She encouraged me in unimaginable ways. And supported me whether I was writing about kittens or bondage sex.

There are memories we made that are just ours, that no one else knows of since we’d sneak off on occasion and have adventures on our own. They’re the most wonderful memories! But today, they are also the ones that hurt the most.

Irva is in my heart so I know she’ll never be gone entirely. Only she’s not here and I miss her so tremendously. I wish you’d known her. It would help to be able to talk to someone who did. But there’s no one so here I am, on my own, fighting hard not to so terribly sad because I know she wouldn’t want that.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ah, honey, I'm so sorry.

I know what it's like to lose someone, but I know I'm lucky to have my mother and Jake to share in my grief, though we all grieve in different ways.

You are a wonderful, kind, fiesty woman who has such a compassionate spirit and heart. She loved you and I'm sure loves you still. She'll always be in your heart, on your mind, in the whispers you hear in your head.

As painful as days like these are, as painful as posting and writing this blog was, it's a way to keep her alive in your heart, to remind the world that this person existed and mattered, still does.

I love you. I'm here for you and I'm so sorry you had to go through this. It hurts and nothing anyone says will ever ease that pain, but living our lives, it's what we have to do because they aren't here to live theirs.