Greetings, squadlings.

When I was nine years old, my parents told me and my older brother that they were getting divorced. I did the only thing I could think to do in times of crisis: I called Aunt Meg.

Within minutes, she was at my house to deliver hugs and words of wisdom. When things calmed down, she took me and my brother to a local toy store and let us pick out whatever we wanted. I picked out a child’s knitting kit, which is a weird choice for a nine-year-old girl. I remember telling her I would knit her things: sweaters, hats, scarves…I never did.

At 10am this morning, my first best friend, my godmother, my Aunt Meg, lost her battle with ovarian cancer after two-and-a-half long years. She fought so hard. My God, she fought so hard. She had to rest–she deserves it.

I didn’t think it was physically possible for a human being to cry as much as I have in the past few days. We knew the end was coming. As shitty as it was, we saw it coming. We just didn’t think it would come so soon.

When I went to her house after she passed to say goodbye, I sat next to her with my mom, my Aunt Sarah, and my Uncle Greg (Meg’s husband). I looked out the window at Meg’s beloved bird feeder, and I couldn’t help but scream.

“CARDINAL!” 

Cardinals mean so much to my family. My grandpa loved them. He used to draw them constantly. They say, when you see a cardinal, it’s a loved one coming to say hello.

My grandfather, Meg’s dad, passed away in 2005. My Aunt Jeanie, Meg’s little sister, passed away in 1991.

As the family turned to see the cardinal I had screamed about through tears, our hearts broke again–there were now two cardinals on the bird feeder. It was Grandpa and Aunt Jeanie, coming to carry Aunt Meg home.

As I said my goodbyes, I held onto a teddy bear Aunt Meg had given me on one of our many trips to Toys R Us when I was a kid. We stayed at the house for hours–sharing memories, talking to Aunt Meg, and compiling information for the obituary we never thought we’d write.

And then we went home.

Now what?

How am I supposed to live my life without my Aunt Meg? How am I supposed to graduate college without her? How are my cousins supposed to get married and have babies without her? How in the hell am I supposed to go on like this?

Aunt Meg had the biggest heart of anyone I’ve never known. She loved everyone. She loved animals: in fact, she’s the reason I love animals. Her smile lit up a room. She was the best listener. She always, always cared about what others had to say. Frankly, if you didn’t know her, I feel sorry for you.

I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know how to live with what comes next. I don’t even know if I want anything to come next.

But, as I told her this morning as I stood next to her bed, I’m going to make her proud. I swear, I’m going to make her proud.

Be well, and tell the ones you love that you love them, squadlings.

Aunt Meg. March 6th, 1952–April 23rd, 2020.