In Memory of Joy

As the trees surrender their leaves and spiders silently spin their webs it is time to slow our pace as nature does and turn inside.  It the season of reflection.  And this past Thanksgiving weekend, amongst the yard work and consumption of turkey and pumpkin pie I found myself thinking of my late auntie Joy.  She untimely went heaven on Oct 3 2015.  She was the only one of my aunts that I call auntie.  This terms holds a softer tone most fitting for Joy.  She was more of a grandmother to my sister and me growing up as I believe she thought of us as her grandchildren.  I didn't know her past and what she was like as a young woman.  I only knew her in her later years. And sadly in the last handful of years I only saw her a handful of times.  My most vivid memories of Joy are all from when I was a little girl and our family would visit Joy in Winnipeg.  I can still recall her scent,- gentle like a Spring morning, and comforting like a hug from a friend.  There are flashes of memories of her that flit through my heart making me smile when I recall them- her reading to my sister and I in a huge comfy chair in her living room.  My favourite story she read to us was Billy Goats Gruff because she did the character voices, and though I'd get a little scared I felt safe in her arms on her lap.  Late at night, snugly tucked in our beds she'd sit on the edge patting and rubbing our backs until we drifted off to dreamland, and while we sweetly slept she'd wash and iron our clothes.

Joy always pleased and took care of everyone and I never once saw her angry or upset.  She made play dough and paste and huge amounts of popcorn to keep us happy.  But now when I recall those times the thing that makes me happy is the memory of her voice.  I can faintly hear it in the back of my memory, like an old tune I can almost remember the words to.  I don't have many memories of Joy the older I got, except for 10 years ago when I was getting married for the first time.  She lent me her pearls as my Something Borrowed, and at the end of the night, when I tried to return them she refused to take them back.  She said they looked beautiful on me and that I should keep them.  When I wear them now I think of Joy and wish I could hold her hand one more time.  Hear her laugh one more time.  Smell her perfume one more time.  See her milky blue eyes one more time.

So many of us will miss her forever and remember her always.  I love you Joy.