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My aunt passed away yesterday.

My daughter’s 3rd birthday party was today.

The funeral is the same day as my child’s birthday.

My aunt never got to meet my daughter. The last time I saw or spoke to her was at my grandmother’s (her mom) funeral. It was 2 years before I got pregnant.

The distance wasn’t because of any disagreement, disappointment, or dislike. It was Life.

Life gets in the way of everything.

As a child, I went to see family when my mom took me. Now that I’m an adult and a parent, I work, and it’s hard to take time off to see family. And I hate it.

I love my aunt. She was the oldest of six children, my mom being the second oldest. Their father, my grandfather, passed away twenty years ago, my grandmother, five.

My aunt lost her husband, who’d she’d been with for many many years, to lung cancer two years ago. She was never the same.

Now they’re all together. My grandparents, my aunt, and my uncle.

I like to imagine all the people I’ve lost, from my grandpa (the first death to shake me) to my aunt today, all up there, where ever there is, greeting each other with friendly hugs and bright smiles, happy to see each other again. Because they aren’t sad, sick, suffering anymore. Whatever anyone believes, THIS I’m sure of.

Rest In Peace, aunt Portia. You are missed.