During the course of the past week, my family lost a very dear long time friend. She had been friends with my mother since grade school, and in many ways, she was like a second mother to me and my siblings. We called her "Aunt," and she was far closer to us than most blood relations in all the ways that count.
Our "Aunt" continued to have an exuberant, loving, nurturing and supportive spirit throughout her 91 years, and until about a month ago, she continued to be blessed with enough physical strength to make her visits and spread joy. You always felt special under the bright light of her love. And even when you realized how widely she spread that love, your gratitude only grew.
My "Aunt" loved butterflies. Anyone who knew her knew that. At her funeral this week, her pastor schooled us about "the concept of sensitive dependence on initial conditions;" in other words, the butterfly effect. In short, it's how the small actions of one being can ripple out exponentially and affect change. That was my "Aunt." She did that.
As we drove into the cemetery, a butterfly flew past our car.
Posts
1 comment:
Can I just say that I question the repeated use of quotation marks? Once you've helped us readers understand that she was actually a family friend, to you -- and now, to us -- your aunt was your Aunt. Period.
Post a Comment