On November 4th, I found myself with Tanna, Jerico and our beloved Rottweiler, Maui, at Alpine Animal Hospital. We were told that after 11 years, Maui would not be coming home. It was awful. Beyond awful.
11 days later we found ourselves at the same vet with our 12-year-old Pit. Locc didn't get to come home, either. Heartbreaking.
Man! I miss these dogs.
In September I was grabbing groceries when my phone rang. It was Mark. "Hey. When you get in your car give me a call."
Oh boy. This can't be good. This can't be good. This can't be good.
It wasn't.
"Rick just called me. Aunt Charlene is in the hospital and it doesn't look good. I don't think she'll go home."
He was right. She didn't.
Our beloved Aunt Charlene passed away.
We were spreading the word through the family, and Aunt Mel could not be reached. I don't know who it was. One of the boys? I think it was. However it came to be, SOMEBODY went to her house in Bakersfield, California to tell the horribly sad news about Aunt Charlene, and found our dear Aunt Mel had passed away on her couch.
Rick was gracious enough to drive all the way from Boise to grab me and take me to Bakersfield to attend Aunt Mel's funeral. It was beautiful.
Thanksgiving weekend found the family gathered again, in Boise, to celebrate the life of Aunt Charlene.
First, I have to say that I find funerals a bit joyous. I love to see family that I have neglected to touch base with throughout the year. Aren't we all guilty of this? "Tomorrow will come so I'll do it later." Tomorrow didn't come. I don't get to do it later. I hope against all hope that somehow they knew how much they meant to the entire family.
Tyson remembers Aunt Mel saying of Charlene, "She could have fun with a brown, paper bag."
That sums up Aunt Charlene. She would tell us stories of her shenanigans and we would howl with laughter. She would sheepishly grin and simply shrug her shoulders. That lady filled our hearts with love and laughter and joy BEYOND measure.
Aunt Mel was the youngest of the Deason-grown-up clan. EVERYONE loved Aunt Mel. Mel had a "presence" about her that you didn't even know you missed until she showed up to family events or gatherings and suddenly the family was made whole. She always made sure to personally greet each family member and have one-on-one conversations with each of us. Aunty M had a way of making each of us feel like we were loved the MOST.
Mark and I were talking about how each person in the world matters. We had recently read Andy Andrews philosophy of the "Butterfly Effect" and it rang true. We talked about how Charlene's humor carried this family and how something as simple as Mel's accent filled a room - and our hearts.
I'll miss them, you know. I'll miss the anticipation and excitement when I knew that I would get to see them. I will miss the laughter and joy I felt in their presence. I'll miss the hand-holding that each always offered me. I'll miss their voices. Their passion. Their love.
Most of all? I miss the era of my life when they were my age. My job was to run around chasing my little kids while they handled all the BIG stuff.
From the laughter of a child to the tears of a grown man
There's a thread that runs right through us all and helps us understand
As subtle as a breeze - that fans a flicker to a flame
From the very first sweet melody to the very last refrain...
Lets talk abut love
Let's talk about us
Lets talk about life
Lets talk about trust
Lets talk about love
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