This past weekend, I attended my Aunt Carolyn’s memorial service in West Palm Beach, Florida. She was my Dad’s brother’s wife and lived to the ripe old age of 92. While I hadn’t seen in her in several years, she was my Godmother and an important part of my growing up years. On the occasional visits we had in my formative years, I always felt safe and seen—two things I didn’t really feel in my own home with my parents.
She was regal and elegant while simultaneously being mischievous and hilarious! She played a mean game of Michigan Rummy, Backgammon, Mahjong and just about any game! She was generous and kind and extremely loving even after being faced with unimaginable grief and loss in her life—her husband died unexpectedly in his 40s, leaving her with two teenage boys to raise. Then her son Russell, my cousin, died unexpectedly when he was in his 30s. She carried her pain with grace.
One of my favorite memories of her was at my grandma’s 90th birthday party. The next morning, at about 10 am, I wandered into the kitchen to find Aunt Carolyn and my cousin Steve quietly eating some leftover chocolate birthday cake from the night before so no one else would notice. I gleefully joined them until my mom (a rule follower and stickler about food) walked in and expressed her horror that we’d be doing such an inappropriate thing. I stopped mid-bite until my mom left the room, fork suspended in the air. Then Aunt Carolyn looked at me, rolled her eyes, waved her hand at my mom as though batting at a mosquito and encouraged me to keep indulging in a post-birthday morning treat!
What struck me the most this weekend was watching my Trezise relatives—my cousin Steve, his daughter Caitlin and his nephew William—bask in the love from family and friends. They welcomed everybody warmly and loved sharing tales of Aunt Carolyn’s capers. You could see them being uplifted in their time of deep grief.
The last time I saw this side of the family was, sadly, at my own mother’s funeral back in 2016. I remember so much about that time as a blur, but I remember the faces of my cousins showing up, holding space and simply BE-ing there with me in my grief.
Showing up matters.
I wrote about the best gifts to give someone who’s grieving soon after my mom died, but it bears repeating.
When you can, be present.
Attend the memorial service.
Show up on the doorstep with a casserole.
Pick up the phone weeks and months later to say “So, how are you, really?”
When you can’t be present in person, be present in spirit.
Send flowers.
Send handwritten cards that either make them laugh—or cry—or both.
Send a book that may be comforting.
Send photos and stories of great memories together.
And this applies not just for when a loved one dies. I’m talking about showing up in ALL aspects of life.
When someone you know has a big life event, let them know you see them. And let them know you care. Offer to help if you have the time and resources to do so when…
- They just had a baby.
- They got a scary health diagnosis.
- They got engaged to be married.
- They sent their youngest off to college and are now empty-nesters.
- They started a new business.
- They launched their first book.
- They moved to a new city.
Witnessing one another is one of the most important things we can do in this lifetime.
How have others shown up and been present for YOU?
How have you shown up and been present for OTHERS?
Is there someone in your life right now that you want to reach out to and let them know you SEE them?
Hug your loved ones tight tonight and every night,
Elizabeth
P.S. As I was thinking back to my own mom’s funeral and re-reading some of my blog posts from then, I came across this gorgeous poem that we read at my mom’s service. It reminds us to embrace the mystery and the magic. It makes me happy to think that my Mom and Dad and my Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Bill are all reunited and enjoying a great cocktail party in the sky.