Aunt Judy

I can't remember the last time I saw my Aunt Judy. It wasn't memorable. Probably just an easy goodbye and a "see ya later". I have no recollection of where we were, what was said, nothing. The only thing I can guarantee is that she was probably wearing a pastel colored, button down shirt and some little white Ked-like tennies. But that's not from memory, that was just Aunt Judy. I don't need specifics of that day to know what she smelled like either.  Aunt Judy always smelled the same, like soap and clean laundry. Like sincere hugs and fond memories.  Both her houses smelled the same, too.  It was a familiar smell that stayed on your clothes after a hug. A smell my sister and I wish we could bottle up. She smelled of cross stitch and crafts, good food and love...you could never get enough of it. So, I'm sure we hugged and I'm fairly positive I gave her a hard time (as I always did) telling her I couldn't wait for her to come back "home", even though her real home was states away. It was simple, probably quick, a strong, meaningful hug like she always gave, and then we parted ways.  I'd like to think it was more than that but, there was no reason to get into a deep conversation about how much I loved her and how lucky I was that she was a part of my life. So I left her thinking I would see her soon. Just a few months later... she was gone. We lost her to a fast paced, agonizing illness that the doctors couldn't get a handle on. Just as quickly as our last goodbye, she was gone forever.

Aunt Judy was my mom's aunt but she was so much more than that.  She was like a mother to my mom and a grandmother to me and my brother & sister. To say she was a massive part of our lives and hearts would be an understatement. Even with a daughter of her own, Jenny, she still made time for us. She would send us homemade gifts, delicious homemade snacks, cards and LOVE on holidays. That huge Christmas package (that always smelled of her) she sent every year was traditional and a household favorite. Cookies, Chex mix, fudge, gorgeous decorations she had made out of fabric and buttons, gifts for everyone all individually wrapped...It wasn't Christmas until Aunt Judy's package got to the house and it was even better when she was in town, she definitely made Christmas. I remember one holiday season she and I made snowmen out of tube socks.  She always had crafts to do; always had time to spend with me. She had two houses, one in Idaho and one here in town. She wasn't so much a "snow bird" as she was a "family bird". Whoever needed her, that's where she was. She would spend months with us and then months back in Idaho. And, she had friends in every state, I swear.  She was loved by so many and gave her love so selflessly. She would send her love in cards for no reason at all, just because she was thinking of you.

She was talented like no other, the craftiest person I've ever met. She made the most beautiful things and put so much love and heart into them. Aunt Judy was so passionate about being creative and she was always giving her crafts, pot holders, stitches, amazing hand crafted pieces of her heart to ones she loved.  At her funeral, a close friend said she was positive that Aunt Judy had already opened a craft shop in heaven.  We all agreed. Talented in the kitchen as well, she could make a twice baked potato that would bring a tear to your eye.  The most scrumptious pastries, cookies, sweets, dinners & desserts...I'm fairly positive that the love and care she put in everything only made it taste all that much more delicious.  When Aunt Judy was staying in town, dinner at her house was a premium...better than going to any restaurant. But, of course, the restaurant could never capture the smell of her home, her heart, her love.

So, how does a family deal with such an incredible loss? Aunt Judy's passing left a titanic hole in our family. How does one move on from that? Personally, I live for the moments when I feel her, remember her, and as it happened today, dream of her.  I remember, a few months after the tragic loss of Aunt Judy, I was going through my dresser and found a pair of pajama pants she had made me that I had never worn. They had been pushed to the back of the drawer and I hadn't noticed. Thrilled to find a small piece of Aunt Judy, I threw them  in the washer and dryer and when they were clean and dry, I went to fold my laundry. It was then, that I saw them all clean and warm and started to feel sorry for myself.  I had never gotten to say goodbye to Aunt Judy.  I didn't have that memorable moment of "I love you's" and meaningful goodbyes. I was left without her and without a proper farewell.  Snapped out of my pity party, I felt a sharp stab in the middle of my hand.  Ouch! I looked down to realize that Aunt Judy had left a pin in the hem.  One, simple pin with a pink head. Through wash and dry, that little pin had stuck in there and waited for just the right moment to pierce me out of my misery.  It was sooooooo Aunt Judy. That would be just like her to say, "Cut it out.  Get your head out of that sadness.  I know you love me. We didn't need a goodbye, I'll always be with you." And I felt her, next to me, around me. I was calm.  Just a simple pin that had last been touched by my Aunt Judy gave that to me. Peace.

I've never really gotten over the fact that she's gone. Sometimes I get really pissed and I talk to my sister about how cheated we were. How cheated Jenny was. We were robbed! And a part of me has never really healed from the fact that two of the people who I love so fiercely, never met.  Aunt Judy got really sick around the time I gave birth to Grace and died when Grace was 3 months old.  My beloved Aunt never got to see this sweet little girl.  It's a dull, constant ache in my heart that I feel often. My little girl will never know the inspirational, incredible woman that was such a huge part of my life. That in itself is a monumental loss. However, this morning when I woke at 5am, on my birthday, I felt that weight lifted. I felt my heart get lighter. I felt Aunt Judy again.

The dream wasn't more than a minute. I wish it was longer but it was just enough.  I was walking into a huge house for my birthday party. Balloons and streamers everywhere. To the right side of the room was a large crowd of my loved ones, cooking, preparing, laughing....getting my party started.  It felt bright, airy, pleasant. I looked to the left and saw Grace comfortably running around playing and giggling. Next to her, was my Aunt Judy, sitting in a wooden chair, watching her, caring for her while everyone else was busy. Grace laughed and tossed a balloon in the air and Aunt Judy looked up at me, smiled her loving smile, and went back to keeping an eye on Grace. And then.....I woke up. I feel, so strongly, that she was showing me that she knows Grace and watches over her. She's here, with us, a guardian angel.  Loving us from afar. I'm not sure but today, on my birthday, I feel more than ever that she's with me, with Grace, with everyone who loved her. What an amazing birthday gift she's given me; the vision of her with my daughter. I've thought of that dream all day and every time I feel the salt and pressure in my eyes.  It makes me so happy to have finally seen her again, to have felt her presence next to the one I love most. To know she is still a part of us.  To believe that she has met Grace and loves her like I do. I just wish it wasn't a dream. I wish she had never left.

The tiny moments when I feel her love are the moments I will always cherish.  When I can't find a single pot holder as my dinner burns in the oven and I pull open a random drawer to find one she had made me, waiting patiently for me to pick it up. When I look back at our first Christmas card with Grace and see her laying on the Christmas tree skirt that Aunt Judy made me years ago.  When I go through old paperwork and find a birthday card from her that reads "Hope your day is bright, your spirits are light, your heart is happy, too. And hope that you're remembering that I'm remembering you!" And she's underlined "I'm remembering you!" in blue ink. How could I not feel that she's here? That she's reminding me we never needed a formal goodbye because she will always be here. Love never needs goodbye and neither did my Aunt Judy.