A Letter to Karen

My Aunt Karen was my mom's only sister.  She passed away at the age of 38 from cancer, but her short life left an indelible impression on my life.  Shortly after I was born, she suffered a still birth due a traumatic car accident.  She went on to have three beautiful children who I considered brothers and sisters.  

This loss has made me miss:

          the way you took on life’s tragedies with compassion, grace and confidence

          the way you knew how to calm my fears and insecurities

          the feeling of being hugged by you

          the soft weight of your hand on my back

This loss has made me wonder:  how did you cope?

Welcoming my birth, the child of your sister, as your own baby perished.  

I promise to love her as you loved me.

I wish you were here to explain

         the how

         the why

         the when

What would you say to me now?

        Certainly words of strength.  

              Moving forward.

                    Bucking up.

I remember the bathroom at Grandma’s funeral.  She was with Freddie, you said.  

Last week, when they took my baby away,  I felt you with me.