Death. And Life in 2015

2015. Happy New Year!

Even though I absolutely wish it for anyone reading this post, that phrase is actually hard for me to say. This year didn't start off very happy. There have been a few very happy moments, but the end of 2014 and beginning of the New Year was rather devastating for my family and also for a few of my friends' families.

Death just literally sucks.

In the span of 2 weeks time, Death came and took the life of my aunt, my lifelong friend's grandfather, a childhood friend's father, a new friend's cousin, and my niece's young friends. Along with those lives, death sucked a lot of joy, hope, peace, and happiness from us survivors.

For me and my family, it was the sudden death of our Princess Diana - my only aunt on my father's side of the family, that deleted the happy from the beginning of our new year.

Aunt Di and her Prince William on their wedding day.

My Aunt Diana was beautiful, inside and out, and she will forever be remembered for the legacy of love and family she left us. She was 77 when she passed away, and she had lived a very rich, bright and full life as a big fan of Jesus, babies, and beaches. So, at her burial and memorial services, my family tried to celebrate her life more than mourn her death. But, I have to tell you, there were many tears flowing and tissues used while we all recounted how she touched each of our lives.

I am still struggling and even a bit angry that she is gone, even though I know that she is happily dancing with the angels in heaven without any pain in her knees. Aunt Di wasn't just my aunt. She was pretty much the epitome of what every aunt should be. She was an active participant and positive role model in the lives of her nieces (and grandchildren and great-grandchildren).

I have books inscribed by her, hand made gifts from her, photos that she copied for me; but what I will cherish most are the honest conversations she took the time to have with me. The words she softly shared that forever marked my outlook on life. As my sister Andrea said, she made us all feel that we were the favorite. She had this way making you feel like she was sharing a great secret with you when she spoke; she would lower her voice and punctuate her important points with a wink and a wide smile. And as my father said, she was the glue that continually bound our families together.

She wrote on the back of this picture, "Dancing at The Pavilion"

Even though she lived in the Carolinas and we lived in Tampa, she was present in my life. Despite her own aches and pains, she was there, packing up the house when my grandparents moved, making dinners, and spending time with her parents in their old age. When my grandmother began to loose her grip on life, Aunt Di was there, helping my parents care for my Mamaw. And when she died, it was Aunt Di and my mom, who watched my grandmother take her last breath.

Many of my memories of Aunt Diana were of the Christmases our families spent together, which were pretty big gatherings, combining her four children and my dad's four girls. And then later, when we all married and had babies of our own, which made sharing Christmas together difficult, there was always an open invitation to spend part of July at the family beach house, The Sonfish. In that big, bright peach (a color only Aunt Di would choose) house and on the beach, 2nd and 3rd cousins played and bonded and became friends, 1st cousins shared the joys of parenthood and got to relive a bit of their youth (thanks to babysitting provided by the older generation) together. Trips in the boat, full of sunkissed littles, to The Pavilion restaurant became an annual tradition. And behind all these priceless scenes of family - not always blissful - togetherness, Aunt Diana would be there capturing it all with her camera or video recorder.

Alexandra sitting on the porch of The Sonfish

Gabriel enjoying Holden Beach

The whole Birchfield/Boyer clan together on the beach. 

I'm not trying to make my aunt sound like a perfect saint - she had her areas of selfishness and pride just like everyone else - but she was our saint. Patron of dancing, bright colors, wide smiles, loud laughter, memory making, and family glue. It is because of her legacy of love that I received several random hugs from my sweet adolescent cousins when we were together this past weekend. It is because of her that I heard the young adult cousins easily say to one another "I love you."  It is because of her legacy of family that we plan on getting together this summer at the beach and next Christmas at my cousin's. It is because of her example that many in her family have relationships with Jesus Christ.

Death happened this year. It is hard. It is sad. But we can learn from it. Here are 15 things my aunt's life and death taught me about LIVING in 2015 and always.

1. Death can happen suddenly. Never miss an opportunity to spend time with your family.

2. Dance anyway. Despite the pain, dance like everyone is watching and that you don't care.

3. Every life is important. Make sure those in your life FEEL important.

4. Spend time with babies. Suck up their scent. It's magical.

5. Turn your eyes upon Jesus and surrender it all to him. In every situation.

6. Invite strangers into your family. Adopt. A pet. A kid. An elderly person. Anyone who needs one.

7. Show your children and grandchildren what's really important in life. Don't just tell them.

8. Read whenever you can't sleep and sleep in whenever you can.

9. Eat less. Food is just fuel for you body; it's not love. (Actually, her son Craig taught me that one).

10. Exercise every day. (Yeah, I know, I don't either, but I should start.) It will make you feel better,         and if you ignore your body, it will give up on you too soon.

11. Live most of your life in the Carolinas. Because they are in the middle. And New England winters       and Florida summers suck. The. Life. Right. Out. Of. You.

12. Be a Beach Bum. The ocean is free therapy.

13. Give your time and money to charitable organizations and causes you believe in.

14. Be good to your nieces and nephews. One day they might just write your obituary.

15. Smile and wink a lot. It makes people feel special. And they will always remember how you       made them feel.

She made us all feel like we were her favorite.

Aunt Di, we miss you so very much. But you will never be forgotten, and you will live on in our hearts until we see you again. Until then, we will be jealous of the angels.

Here is Allen Reed's video memorial of our Dancing Queen. https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10205739524552588&set=vb.1390063842&type=2&theater