Fragile

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   On and on the rain will fall like tears from a star, like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say how fragile we are, how fragile we are
     For the last few weeks I have been working on some whiny blog about wedding planning. The draft is still sitting and I am sure it will eventually see the light of day, but something more relevant was stirring inside me, a feeling, a thought, I just couldn’t shake. Lately I have been thinking of just how ridiculously happy I am.  I am deeply in love with someone who is beyond amazing, I don’t even really know what words to use to describe how I feel about him and how I feel about us.  This pushed me to think of what my life would be like without him, without us, with just me again.  I wondered if I would rather never have known his love or the bond we share or if it would be better to have had it for whatever too short period of time.  I honestly struggled with that horrifying thought, but at the end of the day I cannot imagine not relishing in every single moment we share together, for however long the powers that be choose that to be.
     I know, it’s crazy to jump from the best to the worst, but in the blink of an eye it could be true.  I can’t fathom my life without him by my side, we are a unit now, two people so intertwined that we are almost one; we share everything, words, thoughts, space, time, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  To some it seems excessive, suffocating, but to us it is perfect.  We spent a lifetime without one another, hoping that we would find someone we could feel this way about, and now it is just so easy to be together.  So basically my life would suck without him, that’s the simplest and most honest way it can be phrased.  I think about it often, which is probably not normal, but I have my reasons.  I mean, it is probably impossible to be this happy forever, right?  Regardless of how long I have patiently waited and how nonexistent my love life was before him this life cannot be permanent, I cannot possibly be that lucky.   And then something terrible happened this weekend.
     I am very close to my aunt, my mom’s sister.  Despite not growing up anywhere near her or even really knowing her, in the last few years I have formed a very strong bond with her and her lovely family, beyond just that I-love-you-because-you’re-family thing.  She’s amazing, strong but vulnerable, smart, funny, kind.  She is an all-around great woman, a great mom, a great wife.  Her life had fallen into place, she found that special kind of love, she gave birth to two astonishing daughters, who have turned into strong, beautiful, smart teenagers, she was making plans and living life just like the rest of us.  Then on Sunday, in the blink of an eye, her husband was gone.  He was an incredible man, an incredible husband, an incredible father, an incredible chef.  He was a happy-go-lucky dreamer I got to spend too little time with, but I felt so glad to have as part of my family.  The second I got the call I fell right into her shoes, it was a fear I had been irrationally struggling with in my own life for some time now. I knew, and yet I couldn’t fathom, exactly how she felt, how her daughters felt, and my heart shattered.  It isn’t fair, it just isn’t fair.
     My aunt and her husband had that special kind of love not everyone gets to experience in a lifetime; they loved each other earnestly, deeply, passionately, completely.  There are no words I can say to her or my cousins that will even begin to help them feel whole again, that can help them heal, that can help them continue to live their lives with the same sparkle they always carried.  I understand well that is now something they will always feel the weight of, and we will all help them carry that weight, but that won’t fix it.  It is heart-wrenching to think this happened to them, and I truly wish it never had, I wish it was a nightmare we could all wake from and shake-off while sharing some homemade honey beer.  The only thing I can say is that I am thankful for the life he had, for the fact that he was in our family, for the love he had and expressed for my aunt, for the unbelievable father he was to his daughters.  I know that doesn’t fix it or bring peace, it wouldn’t to me if I was in her shoes, but during this time I hope it can provide some comfort that it is better to have had him in our lives for this time, than not at all.  There is no rhyme or reason for what happened, there is no excuse or explanation, it is awful and unfair, but I hope that someday the memory of his love for her, of his jokes, of his antics, can once again bring a smile to her face and not just bring pain to her heart.
     Life is unsettlingly fragile and we must love each other, deeply and loudly, while we are here.
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6 responses »

  1. Such a thought-inducing, well written post. I often struggle with those same fears you described, and sadly had to face the reality that *I* might not be around for Mat, four *our* little family of two.
    My thoughts go out to your aunt and your family. And in case I don’t say it enough: I love you, and I’m oh-so-very-thankful for these past 23 years that I’ve been lucky enough to have you in my life ❤

  2. Muy lindo, Lele. La verdad es que el mundo perdio un gran ser humano este domingo. Es un lugar un poco mas malo sin Ben y mi hermana no merece pasar por esto

  3. Beautiful, well written sentiments and I could not agree more. Life throws us lots of unexpected curves; I have certainly had my share but somehow you persevere, become stronger, and appreciate what you have and had and lots of things/issues become very unimportant beyond love and family. Over time I hope your aunt and cousins will get to a better place with your uncle in their forever memory.Our thoughts are with you and with them. We all have happier times in the future.
    .

    • Thank you so, so much. I hope the same for them and perhaps one day you can share some of your perspective with her and her children. She’s a very strong woman going through a very hard time and you definitely understand that well.

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