No one lives forever. Imminently our life essence escapes like a fleeting wisp of air with no warning, or justification.My beloved Aunty Stella was too beautiful for this world.
We had our own Christmas tradition
On 26th December I would call and wish her a happy birthday, she’d ask me about school (she passed away 5 months to my graduation), when I’m coming to visit. Then, we’d talk about her husband, and the girls.
Except last year, I broke that tradition. I don’t know what I was confronted with, or if I simply waved it away and thought, ” there’s always next year.”
I and my cousins were never particularly close, but it doesn’t take a psychoanalyst to tell that the source of their holiday delight is around no longer, kinda like the Inn-keeper’s son.
For them, every Christmas tree is a reminder that theirs is still boxed in the garage. That no gifts were under it signed by Santa aka mom—even though all of her daughters are in their mid-late 20s. No matching pyjamas. No holiday crackers on the dinner table, or a game like caricature drawing after the meal. And no celebration of her 56th the day after Christmas.
Today is my Aunty’s Stella’s first Birthday in Heaven.
Thank you for reading, and best wishes this festive season 🙂