There's nothing we wouldn't do to hear her voice again. Sometimes, I want to call you, but I know you won't be there and it's hard to say goodbye when you know finding someone like you, or even close to what you were is not in the cards. She was one of one, and in our ignorance and procrastinations never got to tell her how important she was and now all we want to do is tell her everyday how much she meant to us.
We wanted a perfect ending. Now we've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. With you, we had a perfect middle, an unclear beginnings but the end, oh the end came a little too soon and we are waiting for someone to tell us it was a lapse of judgment on the director's part.
We are not supposed to cry when we remember her smile, subtle laughter to brighten a rainy day, but it hurts. I think the reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Our hearts were made of the same cloth and now that you're not here, a part of us feels incomplete. We are healing, no; we are learning to live without a part of us. We will however not cry because the lessons from you are invaluable, the smiles are for eternity and the love will always be reflected from beyond the grave.
It's being two years and the love seems stronger. They are probably wondering what you did to deserve all this love so next time St. Peter asks that question, tell him you loved.
R.I.P Aunt Cate.
Ps: Please send flowers on my birthday.
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