Yesterday

Before our flat tire event last night, we had a sobering day as a family. It was the day we went to see my husband's aunt. My mother-in-law, a fabulous person that is worthy of a post all her own, is one of six children, and her family is filled with fascinating personalities. I am honored to have married into this heritage.

The youngest sister in the family, known as Aunt Banana when my husband was young, has a special place in our family. She has two sons that have visited with us through the years, she moved to a city just over an hour away 10 1/2 years ago, and we have had great times together. She married a man that loves children, and the hours spent swimming in their pool, boating on the waterways behind their house, and visiting on their patio are GREAT memories. When my fourth child was born, she came and spent five days with us and helped me adjust to life with a new baby. She cleaned, played, cooked, and let me rest. What bliss for a new mama. One afternoon, she found herself getting zero cooperation from my then three-year-old son. I had to take him aside, talk to him about apologizing, and then I sent him back to Aunt N. to make things right. Instead of apologizing, he looked at her with his big blue eyes and said, "You are a nasty thing." This was so out of character for him, and we both found it to be hysterical. It was a bonding moment for us.

For the last few years, dear Aunt N. has been battling cancer. She is now having to decide if she is going to stop all treatment and call in hospice. Yesterday we spent the day at her house, children playing in the spa that had been warmed up in their honor, and we talked with her sons and one daughter-in-law. It was a tender time, and my children did a good job of just hanging out in hopes of seeing their dear aunt. She was extremely tired, and we were only able to give a quick hug and hellos at the end of our stay. It became very clear to me that our reason for being there was to talk with her sons, to just BE THERE, and to not worry about anything else.

Our drive home was a sober one. This remarkable woman has always been the picture of vibrancy and energy, and her energy is spent. She is frail and foggy-headed as a result of the disease and its treatments. We talked about their questions, but mainly we drove in troubled silence. We have experienced the shock of deaths related to accidents, and had to deal with the suddenness of it all. The slow, agonizing path of cancer, and the uncertainty of what is happening in Aunt N's body, is not at all familiar to any of us. I was grateful for my children's company as we drove home. The silence in our car was filled with their love and compassion. I was proud of them for not demanding anything during our visit. They seemed to understand that we just had to hang out...and that nothing was to be expected. One thing I do know -- none of us regretted the time spent.

Amidst the day, our boys got the bliss of paddling around in the kyack. They enjoyed the freedom, and found hours of peace while gliding on the lagoon.