Precious Amy Ann

"Breathe.  Let go.  And remind yourself that this moment is the only one you know you have for sure."  ~Oprah Winfrey

I'm having one of those I-don't-know-how-to-begin kind of moments.  So much has happened in the last couple of weeks, so much that I don't have words for.  The photo above is of my beautiful sister-in-law, Amy, and my two little girls...it was taken less than two weeks ago, just three days before she passed away from complications of Pulmonary Hypertension.  She was just barely 43-years-old.

It doesn't seem like a coincidence that the post I wrote right before this one was entitled, "Don't Wait."  Here are a few words from that post...

We tell ourselves

there we will be another time to paint it

to write it, to sing it, to dance it—to be it

that tomorrow

will be a better day to open wider, to hold closer, to say

I love you.

I'm so very thankful we didn't wait to visit her on that Wednesday—even though that meant taking our girls out of school in the middle of their day and driving the hour and a half to Portland.  I'm so thankful that Lily (my little one on the right) didn't forget to bring the little hat she had knitted for Amy for her birthday and that we got to see the sweetness of her wearing it.   I'm so thankful we took this treasure-of-a picture, though a little on the blurry side, it’s the precious last we took of her.  I’m so thankful that my husband and I got to hold her close and say I love you three days before her body let go.  I’m so thankful that my little girls had many precious years with an aunt who fully adored them in her down-on-the-floor playful, silly, fun-loving way. 

As I read the words that are pouring in about Amy, there are things that are repeated over and over again—simple words about her beaming smile, her constant giving, her genuineness, the way she made everyone in the room laugh until their bellies hurt, how she always made people feel loved and appreciated, what a shining light she was. 

One of my most favorite memories of this precious woman is when, just moments after giving birth to my second little girl, she so tenderly massaged my feet.  I won’t ever forget this simple act of love, how she made me feel like a princess at a time when I may have otherwise felt just the opposite, how tuned in she was to know how to love me best in that moment.   And I think with such gratitude about how, years later, I got to return the favor while she sat in her hospital bed sick and tired and struggling for breath. 

I think about the sunny afternoon she piled my girls into her light blue Volkswagen bug and cruised around my mother-in-law’s backyard (she has a very big backyard), giggling and waving and honking the horn—what a sweet, simple memory this is, one that will continue to make us smile for a long long time.

I feel deeply blessed to have been your sister-in-law, Amy Ann.  Thank you for reminding me to breathe deeply, to love fully--to not wait.  The way you lived your life, the way you gave with the whole of yourself shows me with such simple clarity what matters.  I, like so many others lucky enough to know and love you, will forever carry you close.   Even though your body is no longer here, your spirit shines ever so bright—the precious gift that will forever & always keep on giving.  I love you so, sparkling one.

Beautiful, shining Amy on her 41st birthday celebration--just two years ago