Dying Is The Opposite Of Leaving

I didn’t know Brenda long or as well as many of you that may be reading this. Or there are probably some, not lucky enough to have met her at all. But in the time I was blessed to have her apart of my life, I learned a lot about her. 

I learned that she was stubborn. She was a fighter. I learned she fiercely loved her family and accepted those that weren’t family by blood by making them feel like they were. 

Brenda accepted me from the first time I met her. When I thought Ashley accidentally invited me to a family Fourth of July party. After hesitation and double checking, it turned out, I was truly invited. That day changed my life. 

That’s when I met Brenda. Feisty and full of life, despite the odds. I never heard her complain or pity herself. I just watched her love. 

I wish I would have had more time with her, but isn't "time" such an irrelevant measurement of love anyway? Brenda always had a way of making me feel accepted. Apart of her heart. Accepting of me just for me and gave me permission to be nothing but that. She hugged me every time she saw me. And told me she loved me every time I left. 

This stubborn feisty strong amazing woman, has made me stronger by being in my life. My hope is that I’m able to empower those around me as much she did. To make them feel like they have a home away from home and never have to be anything but who they are. 

I will carry these lessons with me. One of my favorite poets, Andrea Gibson, wrote a poem about death before they passed away from cancer. A quote that always stuck with me said "Dying is the opposite of leaving....I am more with you than I ever was before.“ I believe that. My hope for every person that knew her, that loved her, my hope is that you feel her around you every single day. 

Brenda, you were loved by so many, you are loved by so many. The lessons you taught us will continue to influence our lives. I personally will see you every day, through your daughter and I will smile every time your stubbornness shines through her - telling me "I’m late if I’m not 15 minutes early.” I’d like to point out - I was 18 minutes early to your funeral today, just for you. 

It was kind of wild, but the weather this morning mimicked our grieving. There were no clouds or rain in the forecast. But as everyone that loved you arrived at the funeral - the sky was grim and the clouds softly cried with a mist...I knew that was you from above. Sharing the grief of missing us, probably more than we miss you. As the afternoon continued, the sun - that you always loved, came out shining brightly. Warmly draping our shoulders in your embrace. Thank you for that. 

After the funeral, your cat Oliver, sat in my arms for a solid 30 minutes. Loving and purring, a gentle reminder, that while you may be gone - you will find ways to continue to make us feel loved. 

I love you, Brenda. Thank you for every gift and lesson you shared with us before you passed. Your legacy will live on far beyond this moment. As Andrea said, you are more with us today than you have ever been before.