Obituary For My Aunt

I have to postpone my posts due to the unanticipated passing of my loving aunt. She was one of the kindest people I've ever met with a heart full of goodwill to everyone she knew and empathy for others' lived experiences. She believed in accepting people's faults and imperfections, truly modeling the best of Christian values. I'm so happy I got to spend so much time with her in my adult life. I loved seeing how she carried on her mother's special rituals with her own grandchildren (my grandmother's great-grandchildren). My aunt would touch noses with her grandchildren three times and say "Piem. Pam. Poem." As far as I'm aware it's not a specifically Dutch thing, just something the grandmothers and mothers of our family would do as a form of greeting and/or parting with children. It's exactly what her mother used to do with me as a child. She was my grandmother's oldest child and the mother of my closest and dearest cousin. All are women who supported me in my pursuits of happiness and helped me when I was in need.

I'm not normally a spiritual person, nor do I believe in the afterlife, but sometimes the world moves in ways that makes me question if there isn't something beyond this life in some small yet noticeable manner (if you pay enough attention). The morning of my aunt's passing I left my house for work at 7:20am to walk to the train station when I came across the most beautiful natural light show I had ever seen with the naked eye. The sun was shining above the horizon at such an angle and strength on to the trees of the Arboretum that the autumn leaves looked aflame against the background of the dark grey sky. The overwhelming contrast of this yellow compared to any other color in the vicinty was supernatural in appearance. The only other person on the street with me also pulled out his phone for a picture because it was so unreal a sight. We looked at each other with pure amazement that this was a moment not only the world could produce, but that it occured in our little area of Boston. Sort of how you need to be at the exact right spot at the exact right time on earth to witness a total solar eclipse. But, even though it was so beautiful, the intensity of that moment left me with a feeling of slight apprehension due to it being so out of the ordinary (like how some cultures feel about solar eclipses).

Even though you can see the contrast between the trees' yellow and everything else in this picture, it still doesn't do it justice as to how vibrant and magical this looked in real life.

Not long after starting my work day and exiting a Zoom meeting, I noticed a missed call from my cousin and a text message from her youngest daugher asking if everything had gone well in Zoeterwoude (the municipality my aunt lives in). My heart sank and I remembered the sense of foreboding I felt earlier. My fear was realized when my cousin and I were finally able to connect: my aunt had passed away suddenly without any warning that morning.

I took another picture of the same view the next day, but it was nowhere near as special.

Next day of the same view at the same time.

Logically and scientifically, I know the combination of the sun's rays peeking over the horizon and the coloration of the dying leaves produced this effect. However, beneath the analytical surface, there lies a deeper sentiment for me. My aunt loved nature and animals. She could have entire conversations with dogs, birds, and cats and would spoil them with affection and treats. In that fleeting, extraordinary moment, it's as though she whispered her farewell, a heartfelt adieu woven into the very fabric of the scene. It reminds me that even in the empirical world, there are instances where the heart's language transcends the boundaries of reason and can speak in the most wondrous of ways.

Dag lieve tante. Bedankt voor uw lievde en steun. Rust zacht. Piem Pam Poem.