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- I'm being haunted by owls š¦
I'm being haunted by owls š¦
As Iām writing this, itās been five months since my aunt died. Somehow, itās already kinda funny. Not how or when or why. But that, it really feels like she hasnāt gone anywhereāstarting with her actual passing.
She died around 7:20 pm EST in a hospice center in NJ. Which was 4:20 pm (cool š) PST for meā¦ which was exactly-ish when we lost power in our apartment. The only unit in the whole complex.
While we waited for the electric company to flip what I imagine was a cartoon switch somewhere I couldnāt reach, I decided to hang a metal street sign Iād bought weeks earlier. For one āYeah, Iāll do it laterā reason or another I hadnāt put it up yet.
Of course itās bothering me that one pair of my shoes isnāt āhow I like it.ā
It might read āPass with Careā (loaded) but I see it as a āWelcomeā signāand proof of the first visit/prank from Haunt Marie, as Iāve lovingly been referring to her. Itās very like her to take quick cross-country flight to knock out our power ā on her way to rest with my uncle somewhere in a national park, I assume. (He loved camping, and she, well, loved him.)
Since that first visit, Iāve seen herā¦ everywhere. The actual first time I saw her was at her funeral in June. I kept seeing her in the negative space; like looking at the dotted outline of where she belonged.
Like in that loose space where my dad said he would write her eulogy but then didnāt, or thought everyone should say a few words in her honor at dinner but then forgot to share that with the group. And maybe that sounds bad (oops), but it felt like a secret celebration of her ā the familyās plate spinner ā to notice the ones that were crashing and/or were appropriately knocked over by her little brother.
I wish I had something gorgeous and poetic to say like: itās hard to miss someone whoās physically gone but lives vibrantly in your memory. Or hereās a runner-up: I do truly believe thereās a gravitational force between soulsāso youāll never be too far apart from those you love. Oh, I guess I did.
Another thing about my dead aunt
The week before she died, I flew home to say goodbye and before I leftāknowing it was the last time weād āseeā each otherāI asked her something.
āWhat do you want to be?ā
She rightfully looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about.
āHow do you want me to know itās you? You wanna be an owl?ā
She smiled and nodded. That sounded good to her. See, her whole ~thing~ was owls: books, jewelry, art, tchotchkes. All owls.
And now thatās all I see. Owl figurines, owl mugs, owl pillows, owl shirts. Owls everywhere. Not a real live one, thoughāI think sheās saving that for my midlife crisis.
Have there always been this many owls? Probably. I just notice them nowāand they mean so much more to me. Theyāre like a regularly scheduled grief alarm that buzzes to make me stop. Remember. Honor. Smile.
New album just dropped.
I guess all thatās to say: stop and see the owls. But (I hate this) hoo am I to say.
Funny now: Itās my nonnaās 96th birthday today and Iām celebrating by dropping this lil trailer for my new podcast, SOCIAL CUES, coming to your ears and hearts soon! If youāve ever had a social interaction thatās left you wondering āDid I just make that weird?,ā then this is the pod for you.