Missing Kate

Dearest, Most Awesome Aunt Kate,

     Yesterday was the 3 month mark of us losing you. And when I say us, I don't just mean the Kilgore clan and its affiliates. 'US' means your parents, your brother and sisters and their spouses, their children and spouses, their children (your great-nieces and nephews), your friends, our friends (especially mine, because there is not a single person I know, who has met you, who didn't think you were Top Banana) your church family, your former co-workers, every teacher you've ever had, every person that has ever talked to you for 10 minutes... I hope you get the picture. Yesterday was hard for me. Today, for reasons I can't understand, has been even harder.

Maybe it's because today I'm finalizing all the plans for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and Christmas Dinner.Knowing how much you loved Christmas, this is hard.
Maybe it's because tonight I finally brought myself to hang the very last family ornament you made for us. It's not on the tree though, it's on the wall next to the drawing of the Monroe Street Bridge that you used to own. Knowing this is the last Aunt Kate ornament I will ever receive, this is hard.
Maybe it's because this is a day that ends in 'y', and I miss you terribly every single day. Who knows.

What I do know, is that you were the light of this family;you were the spirit and the essence. We few and humble who remain will do our best to pick up the slack in your absence, but it will never be the same. I will never again be able to call you and talk to you about my troubles, only to hear you say, "Listen kiddo," when beginning your response. My daughters will never get to hear you talk about the Kilgore family, going into all the finite details about who's who and what came to be... Much to my great despair.

I wish you were still here. With every breath, I wish you were still here. Aunt Mary gave me a baggie of your jewelry, to share between my sisters-in-law and myself, which I did. I kept your mall gold hoop earrings, because they are the ones you always, always wore. I kept your gold and ruby ring, because ruby is your birth stone. I also kept your gold chain with the cross on it; the one you were wearing every time I ever saw you. I'm not religious like you - not by half. But the day I was given the jewelry was the day of your Seattle memorial service. That evening, as I sat with my friends Barbara and Georgi at their house, I was trying on bits and pieces. And the moment I put on your cross necklace, I immediately felt more at peace. I stopped crying, and I felt - for the first time since you had passed - that the claims everyone had been making that you were watching over me were actually true. So I kept the cross for myself, and it's the first time in my entire life that I've worn a cross without feeling like a fraud. I hope you understand this (and I know in my heart that you do).

I wish I could say that dealing with the loss of you has gotten easier over the last 3 months, but it really and truly hasn't. Every now and again I hear your voice in my head, pushing me to go on, and telling me that you'll always love me; it gets easier in those moments, but the moments never last. At the end of the day you are still gone, and I still miss you beyond words. It sucks that you are no longer with us, and I can honestly say that all I want from Santa in one more Christmas with you.

I love you Aunt Kate. Always.