Cruel Summer

It has been a cruel summer. I don't even know where to start. 

I lost some big chunks of my heart these last few months. My great aunt, Margaret, passed earlier in the summer and it was a hard loss. She was my home away from home. She loved me so well and gave me so much of her time and attention. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because of her. I loved waking up and drinking coffee with her, watching the parade but talking over it. People in and out of the house for three days straight, all welcome and made to feel like family (related or not). I have countless memories of loved ones and warm gatherings throughout the year at "the big house" in Little Mountain. Most of all, I cherished the quiet weekends when Michael and I would just go up to sit with her and escape the volume and tempo of daily life. Maggie never got a Little Mountain Thanksgiving, and they will never be the same. Jeopardy isn't as enjoyable. Chinese food doesn't taste as good. 

Our last Thanksgiving together before Maggie and Covid-19, Nov. 2018

In the midst of processing the loss of this 94 year old woman who was so prepared to go, I very suddenly and unexpectedly lost my 63 year old dad. The reality of this is just beginning to hit, like a direct hit to the chest. 

Since the day I was born, I knew I had the best family. Growing up, I couldn't believe I'd gotten so lucky. Everyone was so nice and loved me so much. More than I deserved. My dad went out of his way to help me solve problems, to protect me. It was easy to work together, it was easy to spend time together. We were so similar. I had never noticed how similar until we were in that sterile ICU room. All I could see were my eyes--on my Dad and on my grandmother. So familiar, so telling, so raw from tears.

Since he's been gone, not a day goes by that I don't use something he taught me. Life has gotten harder, though. Problems seem less solvable, I don't feel as secure--it's daunting. Using the past tense hurts. Planning vacations, birthdays, holidays, oil changes, house projects hurts. Watching Maggie grow into this amazing, thoughtful, meticulous, bossy little person, it's so hard to know he won't see it. I know he was great at celebrating little girls. He liked animated films, coloring, making dream houses out of large boxes, and swimming. Maggie is a natural mermaid. She is fearless and loves the water. She's not even two and she jumps in, kicks, and blows bubbles. My dad was on the swim team, diving team, sailing team, and surfing team through high school and college, not to mention, a lifeguard in the summers. Many, many warm days of my childhood were spent with Dad in a pool, but he and Maggie never got to swim together. 

Maggie at 6 months.

Maggie at one year.

Maggie at 18 months.

I have been waiting so impatiently for this horrible summer to end, only to head into my Dad's and my favorite season, fall. We loved pumpkins, football, chili, hot tea, the mountains and foliage, Halloween, and our October birthdays. I would often venture to Little Mountain for my birthday, to spend some quality quiet time with my favorite people. It filled my heart with so much joy, better than any present. But Margaret isn't here. Dad isn't here. Here is pretty hard right now, it can feel lonely. I'm not loving it. I had a bracelet reminding me to "choose joy" and it felt like a shackle around my wrist. It just made me feel like a failure. This is not a joyful time, I'm not sure how to choose joy. In the words of Bananarama, "trying to smile, but the air is so heavy..."

It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one

-Bananarama, 1984 (US)* 

I am a believer, and I know one day all will be made right. This is a season. It is the saddest season I've had to walk through, so far. 

I am grateful I haven't known more tragedy in the previous three decades. 

I'm grateful for my beautiful family still journeying with me here. 

I am so grateful that Maggie has the best dad for her and she will be loved the way I was.

I'm grateful we will have more great times ahead, though they may feel weird and wrong for a while, yet. 

I'm grateful for the hardworking scientists who desire to share their gifts in the form of vaccines and treatments for this horrible virus tearing through our nation and the rest of the world. 

I'm grateful for the liberties I am able to enjoy as an American and those who sacrifice to maintain them.

I'm not the only one who has had a dark summer, I know. 

I am holding out hope and praying real hard for a much lighter and brighter fall for us all.

Best,

Emily

*we all used to dance around the living room together when I was a child, listening to this record on vinyl.