Ruth

 
I remember I was about eight years old
My grandmother would take us to go visit her brother
And while there, my grand uncle’s youngest daughter, Ruth
Who was thirteen would always say to me
“You have to call me aunty”

I thought she was joking
My great uncle would say that Ruth was telling the truth
I thought she was one of the cousins
But I won’t get lost with the familial details

Years later, as we all grew up
I’d see my aunt every once in a while
But I as I got older and had a family of my own
I lost touch with many of them

That was until a couple of months ago
At my grandmother’s birthday celebration
Aunty Ruth came with her grown daughters, my cousins
And she still had the same youthful look and smile
That same smile I remember all those years ago

It seemed as if life had passed us by
Too fast

We talked
We caught up
We exchanged numbers
We made plans to visit
It’d be like old times again

Until that Monday morning when I got the news
A tragedy
Why?
And on Mother’s Day?

I sat there at work
Sad
Contemplating
Thinking
Remembering
Reflecting

She was laid to rest
That cloudy Saturday morning
The sun peaked for a few minutes
While all of us wept
I couldn’t find the words to comfort my cousins
Or my uncles and aunts for losing their baby sister
All I could do was just hug them and embrace them

It made me think
Of the plans and paths we want to take
Of the goals we make without the guarantees
Of the unknowns that the tomorrows may bring
And it made me appreciate more of those around me
It made me understand the value of today

Rest in paradise aunty Ruth
I’ll carry the memories of us growing up for the rest of my days