The last two weeks have been a roller coaster of emotions--elation, sadness, excitement, and grief. Only six short weeks ago my uncle called to tell me that my aunt had been diagnosed with liver cancer. She had three to six months to live. Ten years ago she fought off breast cancer, however, it returned a few years ago. And despite her valiant attempts to fight it...it didn't work this time. She fought the good fight.
I planned to travel to Colorado to see her later this month, but she was ready and at peace with her fate. Extremely at peace and prepared for death. This wasn't to say that she was pleased about what was going to happen, but she was prepared for it. She said her good-byes and she spent time with her children and grandchildren. She was ready to go.
She passed away on April 2, 2009 at 11:43 PM MST.
As I mentioned her passing to my friends, colleagues, and family I was surprised at how limited our vocabulary is for death. We're confined to a few select phases and with those we're supposed to convery an overwhelming gamut of emotions--I'm sorry, my deepest sympathies, my condolences...when what we're really trying to say is this sucks. It's not fair. That blows.
After the funeral mass we drove to the cemetery--and I took this photo.