I can't believe you're gone. I mean, I really can't believe it. Even though I knew it was coming. Even though the last time I saw you I made sure to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek and tell you I loved you because I did know that was it, the last time I was going to see you here on earth. Even with knowing and even with saying goodbye, my heart aches. I'm not the only one.
You left your mark, Sue, a huge mark on the world. People who don't even know me very well are telling me stories at my workplace of how you cared for them, or prayed for them, or went out of your way for them. Some of these stories happened long ago and some are so very recent. Even when you were in the midst of your own battles you managed to uplift and care for others in a way that can only be evidence of the Holy Spirit in your life. You were a woman of God, and I thank you for that example.
Dear Sue, I will miss your laugh. It was such an infectious laugh and your smile was true and genuine. I will miss your quiet way of telling the truth, even when it wasn't the popular opinion. I will miss your way of telling of God's work in your life, which is remarkable considering the life that you led. There were so many times when you could have turned away, so many times you could have yelled and raged at God and said 'enough now! I've had enough for one life! Leave me alone!' - but you didn't. You kept walking in grace and truth. I don't know how you had such bravery and courage, but you did, and it was amazing to watch.
Ever since you went into hospice care I have been thinking a lot about different ways to honor your memory in my own life, and in the life of our extended family. There is one thing about you that I loved best of all, and I promise to try to do you proud in this one area of my life to the very best of my ability. I promise to live. I will do my best to live as you lived, fully and filled with as much grace as I can muster. You were living a full life to the very end of your days. You didn't let anything stop you. You lived your life, you celebrated fully, you never did give up. I saw you last summer at the farmer's market and you were telling me all about how you were canning quarts of tomatoes, a little at a time, so that you would be able to open them and smell summer in the middle of winter. You couldn't do as many, you told me, but you could do what you were able to do. I loved your heart in that moment - maybe you couldn't do everything, but you weren't just throwing up your hands, you were continuing to live.
Dear Aunt Sue, I promise to live. I promise to keep my head held high. I promise to do my best to not give up. I promise to be brave, to have courage, and to face my trials knowing God's love for me. If I do half as good of a job as you, I will consider myself fortunate.
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