My daughter lost the baby. If I’m brokenhearted, imagine how bad Abby and Tim feel.
loss
Like losing my mom all over again.
Aunt Bea died this morning. Chemotherapy had tamed the stomach cancer for the past year, to the point where she was getting around with a walker and even eating a little bit again.
But a few days ago she was suddenly unable to rise from a chair. She started sleeping almost all the time. When my cousin e-mailed this on Friday, I knew I probably wouldn’t see my aunt again on this Earth.
On Saturday, my cousin put the phone up to Bea’s ear so that I could talk to her. All I could say was that I was thinking about her and praying for her, that I loved her, and that I thanked her for everything she’s done for the family. I heard her struggling to reply, but ultimately she couldn’t.
After hanging up, I spent the day struggling with memories of my mother’s death, back in August 2003. Losing Bea is like losing Mom all over again.