Saying Goodbye Just Sucks

This summer has been wonderful in many ways.
But there has been one sting that feels messy and hard right now.
My Dad's oldest living sister Carolyn (AC to my siblings and I) was told her chemo for ovarian cancer was no longer working. The last weekend in June she was told she had weeks to live. On July 13 she peacefully died in hospice with her husband, my Uncle Bob by her side.

The almost two weeks we had left with her were spent visiting her in hospice, slowly watching her body decline. As a family we shared the Eucharist at Mass while she was anointed. She and my uncle renewed their wedding vows. We shared memories and laughed while we said our personal goodbyes to her.
After her wake on Wednesday, I went out with family members to a dive bar for beers and burgers to celebrate a life well lived. My Dad's favorite childhood cousins from Boston who flew in for the funeral also came. We laughed, shared memories, and were just together in a hard time.
Her funeral Mass on Thursday was beautiful. 
My Dad gave such a tender homily. Choked up the whole time, he got through the Gospel and what he wanted to share. As he ended, he shared with all gathered that the living memorial to Carolyn is how we live our lives and emulate the traits she so passionately lived. 
Gently patting her casket, he whispered, "And Carolyn, like you you always told us those final weeks, I'll see you when I see you."
The bagpiper played Amazing Grace as we watched her casket leave the church. Watching my Dad incense her casket for the final journey was one of the most surreal things I have witnessed in my life.

In the few days since her wake and funeral last Wednesday and Thursday, I am realizing how much of a void there is without her. 
Saying goodbye just sucks.  The finality of death is really hitting me.
I cannot call or text her anymore. I won't hear AC call me by my nickname "Patsy-kline." She will never plan another holiday party or family get together. She will never see me get remarried.
It is just weird.  Growing up, AC seemed invincible to me and yet she is gone from this earthly life.
The loss of my beloved aunt is making very real to me that someday my siblings and I will have to do the same thing for my parents, for each other. In a sense, that adds a unique level to missing her.
Perhaps (in a slightly selfish way) it reminds me that right now there is not that person to share life with for me. I cannot imagine the huge loss my uncle feels going to an empty house without his best friend.
I know my Dad is having a hard time. He and AC were very close, and in a deep way he feels her absence.
We all do and it is just hard.

While the sad feelings feel uncomfortable, I am so grateful for the message of hope our faith is. In the Rite of Christian Burial it says, "life has changed, not ended."
In my heart of hearts, I know this is truth. I believe it. But of course in the present it still sucks.

I look forward to the day I can hug AC in Heaven.
And until then, I am praying for her and asking her to pray for me and my future (whatever it holds).

The last text message exchange we shared was in March and I was telling her about breaking up with a good man. In her typical AC fashion, she was both validating and giving me advice. 
The last thing she texted me was, "Patty, there is a life with a good man for you. It will come to you."

I am cherishing a lifetime of beautiful memories and asking AC to get on the job of praying for my future.
I believe I will see her again.
But until that day ...
AC - I will see you when I see you.