Sabitlenmiş Tweet

Dear Aunt Jen,
A day late but you understand why!
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I know if you were still here you would be my fierce warrior and biggest advocate, just like you were when I had my tumor. You were the one who put the doctors in their place every time I called you frustrated because they had once again dismissed my symptoms. With forty years of nursing behind you, you were never afraid to stand up and tell them exactly how it was the same way you always did for your patients.
I still tuck the corners of the bed the way you taught me, and I still make sure to help the elderly when I see they need it in public. No school could ever teach me what you did about patient care, advocacy, and life in general. I’m still working on that quick mouth of mine, though.
I’m a day late, but I know you understand under the circumstances. Today I celebrate your life and not the cruel way bone cancer took you. It happened so fast that I never got to say goodbye or celebrate you with the family the way you deserved. P.S. I still believe if they had caught it sooner it wouldn’t have spread so quickly… but we’ll leave the universal healthcare conversation for another day.
Today I celebrate your kindness, your dedication to your patients for over fifty years, and your fierce love for your niece protecting me from the cruelty of my childhood and teaching me lessons I still use every single day. I celebrate you not just as my aunt, but as a second mother, a sister to my mom, and my teacher through every stage of life.
You were my fierce warrior who threatened anyone who even thought about dating me, the woman who went head-to-head with specialists and called out their bullshit, and the person who supported my independence even when I was a small child. You always encouraged me to walk my own path, even when everyone else disagreed. Your home was my safe place the sound of the ocean waves in the background rocked me into peaceful sleep, and for those few hours I could finally let my guard down and rest.
I still feel your presence when the nights get tough and the pain won’t ease. I feel your hand on my shoulder and your soft strokes through my hair as I lie there trying to breathe through it. I know you would understand the frustration and the grief of having to give up what I loved , the very thing you spent your whole life dedicated to. You’d probably chuckle at my “foster fails” from all the constant gifts I brought to your house and every child (or animal) that needed nursing.
I still don’t ride like you Harley motorcycles have never been my thing but I encourage my friends to go for a ride in your honor. A few have, and they laughed when I told them to send me a video.
Mom is okay and being well taken care of. Dad is… well, you already know that story. I know you’re pissed.
I can’t tell you how many times I still reach for the phone to call you when my symptoms flare up, and I feel you when I’m not taking care of myself, I hear that stern voice putting me in check.
Today I honor and celebrate you, your life, your incredible gift to this world, and the deep love and gratitude I carry for you in my heart.
I love you,
Kat.

English























