Where Did the Time Go?

This fall, our beloved Aunty Kiki passed away.  The entire month of October was spent commuting back and forth to the hospital--being hopeful, praying, and wishing for an answer.  By the end of the month, we received the answer; it was her time to join "the pearly gates of heaven."  I use this phrase because as a practicing Catholic, she believed this would one day be her fate, and she believed her parents (my grandparents) and many of our deceased relatives would be waiting there for her, too.

On November 1, 2020, All Saints' Day, we had Aunty Kiki's funeral service; it was fitting for someone that we thought of as a modern day saint--one that put her family, the students she taught, and so many other people before herself.  She spread cheer and laughter wherever she went, and she also prayed for peace--whether it was to end wars or to end family divisiveness due to politics or internal feuds.  In her mind, peace needed to come before "being right."

While we took those fateful trips back and forth to the hospital, however, life pushed forward.  On the days when I couldn't be with her (COVID restrictions allowed only one patient per day), Little Lewie and I took walks, rode bicycles, picked pumpkins, and watched our little pup, Bruce, grow up right before our eyes.  Along with tears of sadness, there were also smiles, silliness, and beauty.  (My poor husband is absent from these photos because he has a knee injury that may take up to six months to heal!)

My favorite photos of the fall came from a random day in October.  I promised I would drive my mom up to the hospital to see Aunty Kiki while Little Lewie, Bruce, and I would explore Lighthouse Point Park in New Haven.  Admittedly, I had only been to the park once or twice before, so I didn't remember too much including how to drive there.  I set my GPS, and I followed signs to a parking lot right next to their indoor carousel.  The last time I visited (more than 10 years ago), the indoor area with the carousel was transformed into a whimsical fairyland for a wedding reception.  Now it was locked and barren, probably closed indefinitely for COVID.  Lewie and I peeked through the windows, and he agreed it would make an awesome place for a wedding.

The grounds were beautiful--sandy beaches, lush marshes, rocky coastlines, looping trails, and, of course, a beautiful lighthouse made of sandstone in 1847--the original structure before this was made of wood.  The park is a respite to many migratory birds, and we saw deer come out of the brush as we  were leaving the park.

Bruce liked it for other reasons.  First, it was his first time seeing and tasting the ocean.  He wasn't too keen on the salty taste, but he loved exploring the sand, the rocks, and the open fields.  Even more, he loved the action--there were families, couples, children, photographers, fishermen, and other dogs!  I took just as many photos of him as I did Little Lewie.

I didn't know it back then, but our visit to Lighthouse Point Park became symbolic.  You see, my aunt LOVED lighthouses (which is a reason why she loved traveling to Maine so much).  Combining this awesome structure with the backdrop of a glorious, colorful sunset epitomized the end of her earthly life, for she brought so much color to the lives of everyone she met.  In awe, Little Lewie and I both watched the fading glow of this radiant light until it was no more.  The light had been extinguished.  But just as a lighthouse is a sign of welcome, safety, and comfort (freedom from fear), Aunty Kiki will forever live in our hearts as a beacon of peace, promise, and hope.  

She is with us.  We know it.