Its been a few minutes since I've published a post. Years.
In the meantime, a lot of life has happened, and a lot of moments in the universe have pointed me in the direction of "YoU ShOuLD JorNAl" but I haven't since I despise being told what to do, even by the universe. Maybe you could say blogging is akin to journaling, so I suppose I'll take this step and see where it lead me.
Today, earlier this afternoon, my Aunt Joni left the earth. Passed away. Went to heaven. Joined the angels. Sashayed to the great party in the sky. Kicked the bucket.
Ugh. There are no words that make it sound OK.
She is a grandmother, a mom, a wife, an aunt, a Godmother, the very best sister. She leaves so many broken hearts behind.
But I keep thinking about her finger nails.
I know, it doesn't make sense. Not a lot is making sense at the moment. Death is strange because it has the ability to bring up old shit settled deep into your soul, and you're not sure if you're grieving the person who is gone - the people they've left behind - or the people long gone before them. It makes sense it is a little of all of that.
Back to Joni's nails. She wasn't always "Aunt" Joni because "she is my friend!!", as a toddler me used to cry out when people tried to tell me she was my aunt. She had this way of moving her fingers, gracefully and deftly, but so delicate and gentle at the same time. Almost like someone would move when their nails were wet, and they didn't want to muss them up. She did it when she talked, when she crocheted, helping kids with shoes, and even when she was pulling lice out of my hair at her dining room table when Karli gave those buggers to me during college. She had pretty hands (did she love her nails?) and in my memory they were well kept and shaped nicely, sometimes painted (but I can't remember if they were always so).
I'm so thankful I had a couple days with her this summer. One last big hug to last me....well....forever.
I love you, Joni. Thank you for being my friend.
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