The Unexpected

I am humbled by the unpredictability of Life these past few months.  We never know what is in store for us season to season or even day to day. 

I celebrated New Year’s Day with some of my family including my Mom and her youngest sister, my Aunt Jula.  That evening around dinner, Jula set an intention to join my Mother’s Day workshop and have a chance to be a part of my flower farming experience.  She was excited to see me “in action” and join the fun. I was moved by her interest and motivation and we set tentative plans.

She will not be here to join me this weekend.

Not 4 weeks later on a Wednesday evening, I received a late night call- rarely a good thing- from my mom who tearfully shared that Jula was in the hospital because she had lost her ability to speak.  Within a day, we learned that she had metastatic melanoma, and lesions were found in her brain and throughout her body.  I spent the spring driving Mom to Virginia to spend time with Jula in the hospital and ultimately during her final days at home.

At this chapter of my life, I have experienced cancer in many ways, and it is never easy.  My mom beat it.  My friend, Jeff, lived with it for years before losing his battle. Jula was gone within 8 weeks. That’s 56 days. Fifty-six days.  Her cancer was fast and furious and absolutely horrific.  And none of us saw this coming.

Jula was beautiful and vibrant.  Poised, smart, academic, curious.  She loved to teach and travel and spent years visiting places all over the world.  She never had children and deeply valued her relationships with all of us. Importantly, she was the historian of our family and had an uncanny ability to remember absolutely every detail.  I always thought I would capture her knowledge and write it down.  Now that opportunity is gone.

It has felt a little flat whining about losing some of my field grown tulips or snapdragons, frankly, and I have struggled to find meaningful things to post on social media.  I know that I am not alone in loss and suffering. I have been trying to be present in the fields and absorb the losses of a tough winter by simultaneously finding hope in the new growth.  It has been somewhat comforting the past few weeks. 

If anything is a reminder that Life goes on- it’s Nature.  Life dances with Death and things continue to grow around or beside where what we love and cherish once was. I will be missing Jula this weekend- and know that she is there in Sprit.