Our family lost an aunt last week. She lived a good life, but not nearly long enough, and one marked and ended by cancer.
This was a first of sorts, both for my kids and for my life in Alaska. I felt a significant and sacred obligation to support our family, near and far, and to make space for our children to acknowledge a loved one’s passing.
The night we learned of the death, we turned off all of the lights and stepped outside with candles, each lighting theirs off of another’s. We asked aloud for comfort and peace for family left behind, and whispered thanks for a sweet life of memories we get to keep for our remaining years.
And as we have done so many times in the days since we moved, we turned to a faith not our own, a faith unfamiliar and familiar all the same, a faith that has sustained families through good times and hard for millennia. We borrowed the Jewish prayer of the Kaddish, a prayer that is reportedly only uttered in gathered groups, so as to share grief in the context of supportive community. How beautiful.
Rest easy, Aunt Brenda.
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