Day 26

“Promise me you'll never forget me because if I thought you would I'd never leave.”

~Winnie The Pooh to Christopher Robin

Grateful for porches

If I could rewind to this day and freeze time, I would.  Beautiful, sunny, clear day in Superior, WI on Bradford Drive.  George was mowing the lawn, waiting for all of us to come over to say our goodbyes before we left for Iowa after a week in Hayward and 4 days in Duluth.

I didn't want to go, but at the same time, I did.  I knew it was a matter of time before I would never have Aunt Jean anymore.  The cancer had her.

I knew this could be the last time I saw her alive.  What do you even talk about?  What should I say?  How will she know I love her so much?

We pulled up, George cut the mower, and greeted us with, "Howdy."  He was sweaty, and he was working hard. (As always.)  I hugged him, and he said, "she's out on the porch."

We all walked up to the porch, and there she was.  She greeted us all with her beautiful smile.  She said, "Hi guys!"  And we proceeded one by one to hug her.  She insisted we sit.  We did.  What the hell do I say?  I smiled at her.  She looked at Regan, and then said, "I like your shirt, what's it say?....Holy Shit?" 

We BUSTED out laughing.

Regan said, "No, silly~ it says 'hollister'." 

The ice was broken.  From here we discussed many topics, including the Mama Bears and Deer in her yard, and how she loved to watch them protect their young.

We laughed about Hayward, about memories, we even discussed the cancer...and that it sucked.

We decided though, that today she felt so good, and it was a nice day.

The porch.  Ever since I was little, that's where Aunt Jean loved to be.  Outside, taking it all in, reading a book, feeding the grey squirrels, soaking up the sun, drinking a nice glass of whatever...

and reading a book.  Or talking to a friend, or family.

Her porch on Hughitt held many memories.  She at one time called Matt "porch boy" because he may or may not have spent the night at her house when she was gone and she found out about it...

...so...he was not allowed back in her house in a very long time.

Wherever your porch is...use it.  Tell stories there.

Let the kids build forts on it.

Read.

Just enjoy it.  Enjoy the people who are there with you, or enjoy the noises around you.

If there is a porch in Heaven, I bet she's on it.  Soaking up the sun, having a strong drink, and

solving the world's problems.
And all the while...she knew I loved her.  I said it, perhaps louder than I ever had, but she knew anyway.