Dear Aunt Brenda,
I’ve struggled for weeks on how to best form this letter, a letter in which I want to share and convey so much, yet find the inability to properly do so. I think about you every day, however, thoughts and feelings of you became ever more prevalent over Memorial Day when the family came together to celebrate life’s lived and life’s lost. Not only has it taken me weeks to write, it’s now taken me months to post. For some reason, I felt like I needed to keep this private between you and I before I was able to share it with the rest of the people I know we both love most. In September, it’ll be a year since you left us and that year has been filled with various emotions, experiences and learning. I thought I might attempt to put down into words some of those feelings I’ve had. And with that, I hope healing may take place not only in our hearts, but in the hearts of others. Although I don’t know exactly where you are, I know you’re in a wonderful, peaceful place and I hope that this letter, in whatever way possible, will get to you.
The first thing I’d like to share with you is how much I love you! If there’s one thing I regret most from what I didn’t do when you were alive, it was that I didn’t express that to you more. Oddly enough, however, that regret I have with you has been one of the largest lessons I’ve taken from your death; to love those I love and to tell them how important and how special they are to me. So many have learned from your passing how short life can be. It’s made me think: if you were to die tomorrow, will you've said all that you wanted to? Will you've loved all you could? What would your loved ones find? Will they see the person they think you are or find a stranger among your possessions? What legacy will you leave for others to follow in? What are you doing for others that will be so greatly missed when you’re gone? If you were to die tomorrow, would you be ready? I ask myself these questions a lot and I find that I don’t always have the answer; or rather I don’t have probably the right answer. When I ask these questions in the context of you, I can answer most of them positively. Brenda, you loved all you could. It’s no secret that you were a woman who sacrificed and gave all you could to your family, your friends, your clients, to perfect strangers. As your niece, as a young adult who looks up to those older than her, I would say the biggest legacy you left for me was bravery. When you wanted to make an improvement on your home or learn a new skill, you did it! You went to Home Depot, you bought the paint or pavers and you did it without asking for help or assistance. In my opinion, it takes a very brave human being to stand on her own two feet, make choices and stick with them. And most especially not only stick with them, but defend them. You constantly had a smile on your face and a laugh on the side. With the challenges that face each of us in the world we live in, having something to smile about is brave. You know that since I was born, I’ve been the “glass half full” type. As I get older, I find that the adversary is trying really hard to pull that characteristic from me. When I think of you, it helps put me on track again in where I want to see myself. I’m not the only one who thinks often about the legacy and person you once were: your parents, your brothers and sisters, your other nieces and nephews, your neighbors, and your many, many friends think of who you once were and the influence you left behind. It is not uncommon to hear your name mentioned followed by a pleasant story. If you ever question, let me reassure. You left your mark on this world. You left footprints in the hearts of many. You left joy in the minds of loved ones. You left examples for others to follow in.
You weren’t perfect. Nobody is though so it’s okay. After nearly a year of absence, we have discovered that there was another side of you we, or at least I, did not know. Still, even shuffling through the madness, I realize that we have something else in common; something I wouldn’t have expected. If you were to ask me while you were still alive to describe you, I would have said something along the lines of happy or funny or strong. While I still believe you have those personality traits, I also see now that there was a side of you that you didn’t quite want everyone else in the world to see. It was only a select few (and when I say few I mean perhaps only Dillon) that saw that side, that vulnerable side of Brenda that held perhaps fears or inadequacies or doubts. I have that side too. And like you, there’s only a few who’ve seen that side; the side that falls apart in the shower after a long day or the side that stares up at the ceiling after the lights are turned off and wonders how “such and such” will work out. I don’t know the reasons behind your wall and to be frank, I’m still figuring out the reasons behind mine. Yet, on those restless nights when I think too much, you come to mind and the experiences you had help shape the decisions I make for my own life. I think about what I want to do the same. I think about what I want to do differently. I think about what you might have thought about it. How would you have gotten through the difficult nights? Brenda, there’s still so much I don’t know about you, that I’ll never know about until I see you again on the other side. Still, from what I do know, you help guide me. I’ve been promised that angels would be my companions from both sides of the veil. I believe you are one of those angels. You are our family’s angel. Sometimes I wonder what you think of us when you see from above how we’re individually coping with our mutual loss. We haven’t handled it perfectly, but I think we all can agree on one thing: we love you. we miss you. and we all are anxiously awaiting that moment when we will be reunited with you.
It’s hard to find blessings from trials. However, they’re not impossible to find. If one looks deep enough and perhaps waits long enough, they can see the richness of the Lord’s hand in the good and the bad. In the loss we’ve all felt since your death, there’s been much sorrow, however, I’ve personally seen the hidden and not-so-hidden blessings come from it as well. The biggest being the closeness I’ve reached with our extended family. When I was 14 and received my patriarchal blessing, it said that I would have a good relationship with my family and extended family. At the time, I had no idea what that meant. To tell you the truth, the people that would come to mind whenever I’d read that verse were not those who I’ve grown to be so close to. Truthfully speaking though, you were one who came to mind. Since your passing, I’ve wondered if somehow I’ve failed because I didn’t have that closeness I feel I should have had with you before you left us so suddenly. In spite of this, I know our journeys don’t end when we leave this life. I know our influences are still felt after we’ve gone home. With that said, I promise to make a bigger effort when I see you next. And I apologize I didn’t make a better one while you were still here.
There’s one more thing I’d like to say, or really ask, before I let you go. Something else I’m learning the older I get is that every family has some manner of drama. Ours is no exception. Still, we have had good examples on love and dedication for one another. In those moments when we might forget, would you please remind us all that we must stick together for it is us who will be together for eternity? We’re a family. Heavenly Father has given us the greatest gift and that is to have our families forever, no matter how screwed up they might be. When we doubt or when we get frustrated, remind us to love each other. Second, I’m wondering if you would do me a favor when you have a spare moment. Let my dad know, along with your parents and other siblings that you’re still with us even if we can’t necessarily see you. I think it would go a long way for each of them. Let them know what they need to do, soften hearts, enlighten minds and bond us closer. It is then that I believe we will truly be honoring and remembering you.
I love you dearly Brenda. How much I miss you! I miss your laugh. I miss your hugs. I miss your jokes. I miss being able to tell you things and having my “cool aunt” understand and appreciate the corky story. I miss coming over to your house. I miss opening the front door to see you there. Above anyone, I think you understood by dad best and I know, whether or not he’ll ever admit it, he misses it dearly. Again, please watch over him. I’ll never stop missing you. I’ll miss seeing you at my wedding. I’ll miss you when I have my first child and not be able to put him or her in your arms. I’ll miss you when I graduate college. I’ll miss you when I can finally afford to have the family at my house for a BBQ. I’ll miss you always. Please never forget that there will always be people here who love you, respect you, admire you and above all miss you. We will live our lives with you close to our hearts. I still pray for you. As I’ve said, I know you’re in a good and happy place. Believe that He can heal your heart. Believe in the good things as you always have. Believe that you deserve as much happiness as you exuded to so many while you lived your life. I love you. May I make you proud until I see you again.
Love Much and More, Megan
Loves!!
