when she passed, i think the world went still.
peace came and carried her away.
silence, relief, and overwhelming sadness filled the air.
because it doesn't matter that she was leaving us for such a long time, the loss is still a stinging blow.
we knew her bags were packed when the diagnosis was inoperable cancer; she knew, too.
but the way she continued to live was effortless and easy.
her laughter just as loud, just as happy as we always knew it to be.
what's the saying? she who laughs loudest has the rest of us in stitches, too.
she made it easy to forget, even just for the moment, that she wouldn't be with us forever.
and that's the way she wanted it.
she celebrated the good things in life, both big and small.
she loved and cared just as she always had.
her words were always encouraging, uplifting, and generous.
they made you feel a little sheepish if you cried over a bad day.
because she didn't often cry over her bad days.
but she never held it against you.
tomorrow WILL be better, she would say.
and it always was.
the laughter was quiet in her final hours.
she accepted things to come, the eventual goodbyes we would all have to face.
we knew when she was ready, that she was okay with letting go.
we may not have been as ready for our farewells, but we were ready to let her say them.
i think her spirit did rejoice that day when she rose above us all.
embracing the family that left before her, regaining that laughter once more.
i imagine she's with them, celebrating, dancing at their reunion.
it helps the pain to ease, lets the sadness ebb just a bit.
we know her love is boundless and eternal for us all.
so we can share a smile about the party she's throwing in heaven.
and the silence fades away as her laughter echos forever in our hearts.
rest in peace, nana.
