It’s been a day.
The illness that kept me from work last night and kept me from work all day today seems to be something lingering, underneath the surface. I feel badly, poorly, not myself, ill – but not to the degree that my physical symptoms were obvious. Feels like a cold or sinus infection, but with minimal sneezing and coughing. Head is foggy and body is achy; lethargic and sleepy, but no fever.
I just felt bad, and I know there’s a lot going around, so I pulled back to rest my body. But in a Zoom meeting for work today, I even told my boss, It’s weird; I feel like this is 50% physical and 50% psychological. I feel sad…heavy…but there’s no good reason…
That’s the truth; I felt like I was grieving all day long. A sick day with televised impeachment hearings didn’t help; I mourned what seems to be slipping through our fingers in terms of the political climate that my granddaughter will experience, considering the road we’re on…
I napped and wondered at my condition.
But then the phone ran early in the evening and my cousin said, Beth. Annie Kay passed.
And everything clicked into place.
And this is crazy, I know it is; but I felt that grief settle over me long before I knew that my aunt was in terrible pain today, that she’d gone to hospice for relief, that she finally left us. I think somehow I began mourning this loss before it was real.
That’s the only way this odd day makes any sense to me: Grief.
And I’ll spend no time fussing about for an answer or explanation; I’ve come to believe that there are aspects of our existence that go far beyond our tangible experience of reality, things for which there are no answers to be found. I am trusting that my soul needed a time to grieve before my mind appreciated the cause, and that today was an opportunity to rest in that grief.
I am sad. We have lost three family members this year, and it’s hard. Loss is inevitable, but hard.
I’m grateful for the influence she had on my life; I am better for it.
She was my aunt, Kay Case; I was the only female in my generation on that side of the family. I dubbed her “Annie Kay” early on, and it stuck – for me, at least. And I smiled, after I realized that when my cousin – her son – called me tonight, he used my words to tell me: Beth. Annie Kay passed. He didn’t say, My mom; he used the words I have claimed for half a century.
My Annie Kay.