Somewhere between an ordinary Saturday and an ordinary Sunday Jim died. Shaken out of my newly wedding bliss and into grief,
Jim known to me as Uncle; a title I have firmly cemented in my brain since the beginning of my capacity to remember. My earliest memories include wriggling on my belly like a snake in the grass over his and Auntie Marj's blue carpet. I remember chasing after JJ, the beloved dog of the family, playing PacMan in his basement and a score of other memories which are as much a part of my growing up as going to school. My parents may have chosen to brand these friends "Uncle and Aunt" simply to explain to us their love so deep it could only be counted as family.
In the time of grief that followed his passing, I have given great consideration to living. Mortality, and the consideration of, I find both incredible awe-inspiring and simultaneously terrifying. I am torn between the sheer joy of living and the need for an immediate drink. The positivity in me which I choose to see is focused around life. The current state of mine. What I need to do; what I need to let go of, where I need to push and where I need to release. It's a humbling thought, but an important one, to consider life as both short and small. So with these thoughts swirling over the last few weeks I have made some choices. I must continue to choose life.
It's divine timing that the anniversary of Emma's passing is around the corner as well. Carrying all of these thoughts I am incredibly motivated to live. I kept writing down cliches to support my case, but instead I shall finish off with a list of things to make sure I am living life fully.
I am preparing to go on Golden Triangle tomorrow. I am trying out some new things this summer. New cooking, new baking. I need to return some phone calls and reach out to old friends. I need to try to tie up ends I have left open. I need to say yes to the second glass of wine. I need to stop and breathe and enjoy simple things like how beautiful the clouds are against the spring sky. I am back on my mountain bike taking classes after almost a year anniversary of the little "accident". I'm writing more and worrying less (trying to worry less). I am reminded of how delicate and short our time is, and how I need to make it count.
I am reminded- by Jim and Emma- to make it count and really live.