June came with a strange mix of warmth and weight for me. A month that often signals sunshine and ease brought along grief wrapped in two different stories. I experienced wealth, but not of the kind that sits in banks.
This was the wealth of memories, love, and shared lives, even as I faced loss. Two remarkable women who played roles in shaping my world transitioned this month. Both were my mother’s friends, but to me, they were much more.
Auntie P was like a second mother during my childhood. I remember how deeply my mom loved her, how she would give and sacrifice, just to see her friend happy. Life happened, and their friendship drifted apart, but the memories didn’t. I still carry them, vivid moments of laughter, presence, care. It’s surreal to know that she’s gone. A chapter quietly closed, yet the pages remain in my heart.
Hmmmm Life!!!!
Then there’s Auntie C. This one hit deep. She wasn’t blood, but she chose to be family. She adopted my mom as a sister and extended that love to me and my children. Her home, her heart, always had room for us. She was a listening ear, a safe space, a woman full of grace. I already miss her deeply. Her warmth was the kind you don’t forget.
And as I process these losses, I also prepare to travel in a few days with Mr. B, to stand beside him as he pays his final respect to his mother.
She passed earlier this year, and I can see that the pain still sits with him, quietly but firmly. One of his messages to me brought tears to my eyes:
“I wish my mom and dad were alive for one more day so I could give them a big hug and introduce them to you.”
Those words stayed with me.
Grief has a way of softening us, reminding us what matters. Mr. B treats me with so much love and intention, it inspires me to reciprocate in ways that feel meaningful to him. I think often about how he copes with not being able to call his mom anymore. He once told me he’d always call her when stuck at a railway crossing. Just a check-in. A simple “Hey Mom,” now only possible in his thoughts.
It’s a privilege to stand beside him now, to witness his memories and hold space for his grief as he honors his mother’s life. Love, after all, isn’t just about presence, it’s about showing up when the moments feel heavy too.
To Auntie P.
To Auntie C.
To Mr. B’s mom.
To every soul we’ve loved and lost.
May your souls, through the mercy of God, rest in perfect peace.
Add comment
Comments