Half a Decade

Today marks five years since Isla left us.The pain is just as bright, just as sharp, and just as real as it was half a decade ago.

This is an especially heavy week. Less than a month ago, Dan's beloved aunt Judy was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Just as she was about to begin chemotherapy, her health took a sharp decline and we recevied the call on Monday that she'd be transferring to hospice care. We were blessed to have the ability to jump in the car and spend several days with Dan's family, laughing, crying, sharing fond memories and saying goodbye. We said goodbye to Judy on Friday night as we headed back home to Charlottesville, and she died early yesterday, on Saturday morning. I hope it wasn't selfish of me, but the last thing I said to her was "I love you, I'm honored to be a part of your family, and Isla is waiting for you". I like to imagine the two of them reunited, playing and sharing their great smiles. Judy always had the sweetest things to say about Isla, always took the little heart filled with her ashes and kept it warm at family gatherings. This week has been a comforting reminder that our grief is shared, that when someone dies, everyone loses that person, and that the journey living after being so shattered by loss does not have to be a solitary one.

My heart is heavy as a stone, but I am grateful to share the grief with all of you. <3