Tuesday, March 26, 2013


Reality bumped into me today.  I was striding ahead, looking nowhere in particular and everywhere at once, head full of projects on the go and ideas to pursue.  "Look around, Yvette," it said, as it crashed into me.  "This is the real world, and things happen."

We lost a loved one today.  Since I heard the news around noon, I've been remembering Alannah, who left us so unexpectedly and so soon.  Alannah was the family historian.  She collected family stories, photos, biographies, important dates, and painstakingly organized them for all to access.  We counted on her to remind us of birthdays and anniversaries, hellos and good-byes, and everything in between.  She dedicated herself to her family.   When I think of the potential of marriage, I think of her and Ross.

Recalling all the good times around their table, our table, and tables here and there, I remember silky chocolate cheesecake, pure white meringues, continuous conversation, interesting questions, challenging ideas, exciting plans, the simple joy of being  together.

True, saying good-bye is a part of life at any age.  As we grow older, however, the likelihood increases, and I am so much more aware of the fragility of life.  One of the challenges of aging is saying good-bye to people you love, and adjusting to the void their absence will leave in your life.

I can't imagine what her absence will mean to her family.  I know we will really miss her.


  1. I am sorry to read this post Yvette - I am sorry that I have no words that will made it easier. Sometimes we want words to say things that they cannot, sometimes we wish for words to take the hurt away, to help us make sense of tragedy and pain and loss.

    But words can only write our thoughts. Write the truth. Write our feelings.
    I am glad that you have this space, this avenue to work through life's highs and lows.

    Your line,
    "adjusting to the void their absence will leave in your life," is so powerful and so true. There is no getting over events such as these. No going back to the way it used to be. Only adjustment and redefining normal in the wake of loss.

    Take care, be well.

  2. Thank you for the comforting words. The numbers are starting to add up--the ninth family member since 2009. It's so important to stay connected with people. I think I need to phone Aunt Lorraine.