She Always Wanted To Be A Good Aunt

Hello our family, friends and loved ones. As Nixie's Aunty B, I can attest to the fact that she always wanted to be a good aunt. She would call her Nanny up and say she's coming to the country for a break to get away from the city for a day. Sure enough, when she got there, she always had a niece or two in tow.

She always called me wherever I was in the world from Nanny's house on her visits. I would say to her "I thought you were taking a break today" and her response would always be "They wanted to come and looked sad that I was leaving so I couldn't not bring them. They're my nieces and I want to be there for them and be a good aunty". Well, my sweet Nixie, here is the living proof that you were that and so much more. Your first niece, Diavione, wrote this tribute for you on the day she was to say her last farewell to you. In her grief, she forgot it at home and didn't get to read it to you in church on that saddest day of days in her life. With her permission, I have included her favourite photo of both of you and her heartfelt words:

Every knows our beautiful Nixie, but no one knows her as much as her family and very close friends.

Nixie was our hero. She cared for people older than her, same age or even younger it doesn’t matter who you are she cared for you. 

Even if you had no home or if you had no clothes she would give you the clothes that she was wearing because that’s just who she was. She was an amazing mom sister, aunt, daughter, granddaughter and much more.

She would go down the wrong path but she found herself again we all wish she was here but know she is in a much better place and we know she will be in God’s hands where she will rest and where there is no more pain and she won't have to struggle ever again.

It is a beautiful tribute, Diavione and I'm sure your Aunty Nixie is smiling down on you from heaven, shining her love upon you and watching over you on your eleventh birthday and always, as proud of you as we are.

Love You,
Aunty B

The Struggle To Make Sense of The Seemingly Senseless

Hello there, my beloved family, friends and those drawing inspiration from this blog. I started this blog as a way of moving through my grief over losing my sweet godchild, Nixie 4 weeks ago today at such a young age. As I have posted before, finding words in these early days has been challenging so I began by sharing the poems of her daughter, cousin and soon one from her niece.

Bear in mind, folks have shared odes, tributes and stories which may have circulated via e-mail and generally online, some recently and others for a long time not always identifying the author, like the one I read at her funeral, handed to me minutes before delivered it from the lectern. These verses are still around because they have helped so many through difficult times and continue to help still more. One such story I have seen in my in-box for years many times comes to mind as I struggle with more questions than answers in my various stages of grief.

I believe this is called, Two Travelling Angels but I'm not sure. I have no idea who wrote it but draw great comfort from it and hope you do too.

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night
in the home of a wealthy family.

The family was rude and refused to let the angels
stay in the mansion's guest room.

Instead the angels were given a small space in
the cold basement.

As they made their bed on the hard floor, the
older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it.

When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied,
"Things aren't always what they seem."

The next night the pair came to rest at the house
of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife.

After sharing what little food they had the couple
let the angels sleep in their bed where they could
have a good night's rest.

When the sun came up the next morning the angels
found the farmer and his wife in tears.

Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole
income, lay dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the
older angel how could you have let this happen?

The first man had everything, yet you helped him, she accused.

The second family had little but was willing to
share everything, and you let the cow die.

"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied.

"When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I
noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall.

Since the owner was so obsessed with greed
and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it."

"Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed,
the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead.

Things aren't always what they seem."

To quote the great author, Toni Morrison, who lost a son this past December, "I expect to be sad for the rest of my days. I am not looking to move on. I am not looking for closure. That would dishonour my son's memory". She said she has things that are hers. She has her writing. These are places where you can keep going, keep living your life, as I interpret it. She advised that we should find something that is our "sacred place, it may be gardening", and that for her it's her writing. I feel the same way as Ms. Morrison that my writing is my sacred place. It is where I can express myself without interruption or wondering if someone is "getting" what I'm saying. It's just for me to heal and hopefully inspire those who may stumble upon my words. For this sacred place, I am truly grateful.

I did not know that my sweet Nixie's exit from this road we began travelling together was coming so soon, but I do know I have to keep going to fulfill the divine plan we co-created previous to coming here, without GPS, and trust that things may not always be what they seem, but that I don't always have to understand. April 25th, 2011 when I had to say farewell to my sweet godchild was the saddest day of my life to date. I expect to be sad every moment that I think of her because I have loved her and been loved by her. Our souls journey has been written. I just need to continue along the route and watch for the signs which will show me my lane until we meet again.

Until next time, tell someone you love them.

Aunty B

She Rehearsed Her Poem Until She Read It Without Crying

Hello My Loved Ones. Today I bring you the poem, my other goddaughter, Miss Mew read for her cousin, Nixie.

When she heard her cousin had just died suddenly, as we all did, she cried and cried and hugged her Mom. She was with her friends on her way to see a movie. They promised her Mom they would be there to help her through her grief as they proceeded on to the theatre.

Her schooling has served her well. She has taken a public speaking class but nothing could make delivering a poem for her cousin at her funeral easy. She arrived at Nanny's house after an all-night coach ride and read it to her Auntie Julie, Nixie's Mom. She had read it to her own Mom. I arrived late that evening and she read it to me. Each time she managed another paragraph with less pausing to choke back her tears. The final rehearsal was at the casket. Miss Mew thought if she managed to read it through without breaking down to Nixie herself in her casket at the funeral home, she would be able to do it in front of the congregation in the church.

As she approached the lectern she took a deep breath. She began by introducing herself as Nixie's cousin from Pittsburgh and then thanked everybody for coming. She did us proud, reading strongly and steadily with her mother, Nixie's Aunty Odie and myself standing behind her, one step below her, each with a hand on her back. This is the poem, my sweet godchild, Miss Mew read for her precious cousin, Nixie:

An Angel whispered to Nixie,
take my hand and come with me
you're work here is done.

Nixie went away to a place
where there are no tears, nor sorrow
only laughter and smiles,
there will always be a Tomorrow.

As Nixie moves amongst the clouds.
She’ll look down and smile upon us
while the angels sing a heavenly song.

Nixie is not alone; all who went before are there.
Papa Eric, Mama, Aunty Ada & Uncle Howard awaited her return.

Nixie knows we'll grieve and wish she was still here
But she is here in the memories we hold dear.

Remember how much Nixie loves us
and know she took our love with her.
She did not wish for us to cry, nor feel sad.
Her pain is gone and she is Free!

Soon we'll go to join her.
Until then God will be with us
Just as He's with Nixie.

She ended with a teary "I love you, Nixie" and walked back to her pew with the dignity and class we who have seen her grow up were filled with pride and joy to witness. "Well done!", I whispered as I took my place at the lectern not doing nearly as well as my sweet Miss Mew did.

A Child's Beautiful Farewell To Her Mother

Hello again my dearest family and friends. As we come to terms with our grief in these early days following the departure of our sweet Nixie I wanted to share with you her daughter, Jahnia's poem. Jahnia who is twelve years old gave me her permission to share her farewell which my sister, her Aunty Odie read on her behalf of the day of the funeral 2 weeks ago.

Thank you sweet Jahnia. We are so proud of you for writing these beautiful words in honour of your mom. I'm sure she is smiling down on you from heaven where you will meet again some sweet day.

We love you,
Aunty B, Aunty Odie, Grandma and Nanny

Today Would Have Been My Dad's 78th Birthday

Today is Mother's Day. It is a day that fell quite often on my father's birthday, May 8th. Sadly my dad passed away almost 20 years ago in his 59th year after a 7 month battle with brain cancer. Nixie was only 11 years old then. She came daily with her parents to the hospital to see her "Papa Eric", as she called him. Papa Eric called Nixie his "Big Chief" because of her First Nation heritage. She was always a loving, healing soul, kind to all those who crossed her path ever since she was a little girl.

Her mother used to come home and find several kids from the playground in her house invited by little Nixie because they looked hungry or being sponged off because she didn't want them to get in trouble going home dirty from the playground.

In the hospital when her Papa Eric was so ill, there were times visitors had to overflow into the family room, provided for those with relatives in Palliative Care. On her way down there to watch television one day Nixie, passed the room of an Alzheimer's patient calling and crying. She stopped in to talk to "Libby" and calmed her down. For the months her Papa Eric was in the hospital, Nixie became a regular visitor to "Libby" who didn't seem to have any family. With the permission of the nurses, Nixie would spend time with "Libby", talking to her, eventually combing her hair and telling her she was pretty. "Libby" was always calm and happy when Nixie was with her much to the gratitude of the nursing staff, patients and their families in this ward where emotions were raw and quiet time is paramount for all concerned.

13 years later, Nixie's great-grandmother, my grandmother was gravely ill from kidney failure as a result of Diabetes and again she was there to love and heal. By then 24 years old, she would visit the hospital regularly sitting for long periods by her great-grandmother's bedside, holding her hand, applying lotion to hands and feet. She came across an absess which had been there a while, pulled a pot of shea butter from her purse, applied it lovingly to her "Mama's" boo boo and not surprisingly to me or anyone who knew Nixie, the abscess healed within 24 hours.

This year, Big Chief has joined her Papa Eric and Mama in heaven taking her place among the angels doing the work of the Great Spirit and being guardian angel her four children, three nieces and one nephew she left behind.

Happy birthday Dad and Happy Mother's Day Nixie, forever in our hearts until we meet again.

When Grief Strikes, Poems From Past Come To Mind

Aunty B here with a beautiful poem shared with me by a kindred spirit I have just discovered since my precious Nixie left us. This young lady can be found under the link, "A Valediction" in the sidebar. I believe my beloved Nixie wanted us to meet. I'm just saddened that it had to be in the event of her departure from this life.

I found this poem awhile ago & I think it perfectly describes Nichole. Needless to say that I think about her a lot. Siegfried Sassoon wrote poetry during and after WWI. So, I guess this is highly appropriate because as you said I was in the "trenches" with Nix once. Really it's her laugh that I remember the most.


"Elegy"


Your dextrous wit will haunt us long
Wounding our grief with yesterday.
Your laughter is a broken song;
And death has found you, kind and gay.

We may forget those transient things
That made your charm and our delight:
But loyal love has deathless wings
That rise and triumph out of night.

So, in the days to come, your name
Shall be as music that ascends
When honour turns a heart from shame...
O heart of hearts! ... O friend of friends!


-Siegfried Sassoon


luv,
Girisha

Thank you so much, Girisha. I too remember her hearty, loud laugh. She came by that honestly as her mum and I have it too. When we were kids growing up there was a market in Kenya called Makadara Market and our elders always admonished us for not laughing like ladies, saying to stop that "Makadara Laugh". Funnily, Jennifer Lopez and Julia Roberts laugh the same way and always remind me of Nixie when I hear them laugh.

Finding Words Through Extreme Grief

I got the dreaded phone call that my sweet godchild had died suddenly. The trauma and the primal wail that came from me in my disbelief was unrecognizable.

For the next eight days I struggled to find words to eulogize her short tumultuous life of only 31 years. Prayer and meditation yielded no comforting words. We drove a thousand miles to attend her funeral and still no words came along the way. I wasn't even sure I'd even be able to speak on that very sad farewell day.

Finally on the day we closed the casket to transport her to the church, her father handed me these words. He said they had come that day in a condolence basket from his work and asked if I would read them during the funeral Requiem Mass. It seemed to be a sign from my sweet Nixie that she wanted me to speak for her and let everyone know she was OK. It was the saddest day of my life and through my tears I managed to read through to the end. Here then are the words my Nixie sent to me:

If tomorrow starts without me,
And I'm not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me;

I wish so much you wouldn't cry the way you did today,
While thinking of the many things, we didn't get to say,
I know how much you love me,
As much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me,
I know you'll miss me too;

But when tomorrow starts without me,
Please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name,
And took me by the hand,
And said my place was ready,
In heaven far above,
And that I'd have to leave behind,
All those I dearly love.

But as I turned to walk away,
A tear fell from my eye
For all my life, I'd always thought,
I didn't want to die.

I had so much to live for, so much left yet to do,
It seemed almost impossible,
That I was leaving you.

I thought of all the yesterdays,
The good ones and the bad,
I thought of all the love we shared,
And all the fun we had.

If I could relive yesterday,
Just even for a while,
I'd say good-bye and kiss you
And maybe see you smile.

But then I realized,
That this could never be,
For emptiness and memories,
Would take the place of me.

And when I thought of worldly things,
I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did,
My heart was filled with sorrow.

But when I walked throught heaven's gates,
I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me,
From His great golden throne,
He said, "This is eternity, and all I've promised you".


Today your life on earth is past,
But here life starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last,
And since each day's the same way,
There's no longing for the past.

You have been so faithful, so trusting and so true.
Though there were times you did some things,
You knew you shouldn't do.

But you have been forgiven, and now at last you're free.
So won't you come and take my hand, and share my life with me?

So when tomorrow starts without me,
Don't think we're far apart,
For every time you think of me,
I'm right here in your your heart.

A Child Of Mine

Hello There, Aunty B here to share with you this very old poem, sent to me by my cousin, Nadine. Thanks so much Nades for sending me your love, prayers and many words  from which I am drawing strength in the wake of the sudden, senseless and shocking loss of my sweet godchild.

A Child Of Mine by Edgar Albert Guest, 1930

I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while she lives,
And mourn for when she's dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.
But will you, till I call her back,
Take care of her for Me?
She'll bring her charms to gladden you,
And should her stay be brief.
You'll have her lovely memories,
As solace for your grief.
I cannot promise she will stay,
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over,
In search for teachers true.
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give her all your love,
Nor think the labour vain.
Nor hate me when I come
To take her home again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!'
For all the joys Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter her with tenderness,
We'll love her while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for her,
Much sooner than we've planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.

Thank you to my nephew, Daniel for finding this beautiful video and Auntie Pattie for re-sharing it on Facebook: