In July, I lost my aunt.

She was one of the brightest souls I had ever met. Everyone knew her as someone who was always smiling, and howling with laughter at any moment. She simply just entirely enjoyed life, even the small moments. She raised my cousins, as their father was not always in their lives, and she made countless sacrifices for our family. She survived a heart attack, beat breast cancer, and would not give up. Never. For the past few years, at least since I really started growing up, she had been suffering from dementia. As a child, this confused me in a way, but I honestly did not think much of it. To me, it was who she was, and I loved her even though this illness began to grow worse.

I had always acknowledged the dementia, but I really began to realize that it was a problem once her memory reset went from every 10 minutes to 5 minutes, to about 20 seconds.

Even through these difficult moments, she always would make me and others have the biggest smiles on our faces. I miss always hearing her call me “ducky” (darling in English slang), and hearing her laugh, which you could quite literally hear from two doors down. She embodied joy.

The thing about my aunt is that she had a fear of missing out, of sorts. My family as well as the doctors were surprised she kept going despite being severely ill towards the end. She just simply did not want to go. She always wanted to be a part of the party, and she did so in every aspect of life. She did all sorts of crazy and adventurous things in her 82 years of life. She rode Harley’s, got tattoos in her 50s (one of many being Betty Boop), flew hot air balloons, owned an absolute zoo of animals, and had many more stories that she would tell if reminded of them.

I had never lost someone so close to me before. Seeing her for the first time in a while, in such a different state really made me reflect on life. I would sit with her in her hospital room, watching her sleep, unable to speak at all to me at times. It was only her and I. I began to realize that there are so many insignificant things that tend to bother us greatly in our everyday life, that simply just should not bother us at all. I realized the importance of the phrase “life is short.” It really is. Here in front of me was a woman who had done so many incredible things throughout her life, and she could not even remember any of them at this point. It was like all of her memories had been locked away, never to be touched again.

Looking back on these times, I realize this experience has changed me so much. My perspective has changed a lot. It’s very difficult to explain. My first time experiencing grief was so strange for me as well. I had never felt it. I heard someone say somewhere that grief is love with nowhere to go, which I can relate to. I still cannot totally comprehend that she is gone. She was there, and now only memories remain. Everyone should try to live every day to the fullest. To lead your life with genuine kindness and non-judgment, especially to yourself, is what she did, and that is truly a beautiful way to live.

pc: Lloyd Towe