“She quietly removed herself from the drama, built her own lane and lived happily ever after.  Free, alive, and never looking back,” Kelley Webb.  A little over a week has passed since I lost my aunt and I wanted to write a piece that honored her.  A lot of the hurt in this situation comes from the fact that my aunt walked way years ago.  I never held any resentment for that decision, I actually applauded her for it.  I just never thought that she’d include us in that in regards to not speaking to us as well.  We found out she was going to pass 24 hours before she did so after all the years, it was a sudden thing to hear this.  There was a lot of anger in the room, a lot of frustration, and a lot of helplessness.  And, yes, that actually did surprise me.  My family had made their choices and decided where the blame lay years ago—but those choices excluded my siblings and I from the equation as well.  So while I felt bad for their grief as well, I felt sorry more than anything.  My siblings felt more anger. 

While I saw my aunt in that condition, I felt my own guilt and sorrow, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.  The things left unsaid, the last conversation we had, the good times we had and the good times we would never have together.  The fact that she didn’t want to reach out to us because of what happened with her siblings.  The fact that we could have done more to reach out.  The resentment that this information was kept from us.  The last words I heard her say were, “I missed you.”  I missed her too.  But with all of this, I knew at the end of the day, I knew when she made that decision to walk away years ago, she had made the right choice.  See, she had been the punching bag for too long.  She had been the one to try and resolve things, she had been the one who lost herself trying to fix it all.  She had made herself weak trying to stand up over and over again, and when she found the truth of what had happened, she couldn’t take it anymore.  It wasn’t a big production—it was much like the opening quote—she simply decided to walk away.  She found a place where she felt better, where she was happy, she let go of the expectation that she would fix anything, she released the weight of “doing the right thing for the family”, and she lived her life. 

While her decision ultimately cut us out as well, I didn’t feel anger for that part.  Sadness, yes.  Anger, no.  Her decision and ultimate follow through on walking away instead of killing herself trying to fix something so broken was quite frankly inspiring and liberating.  She had never been the one to stand up for herself and then she did—and even if we weren’t there with her, I like to think that she had real moments of happiness.  That she lived the last years of her life happily and at peace doing the things she loved.  The thing I remember the most is her smile—and she smiled a lot even though she felt like shit most of the time.  I hope in that time apart she was genuinely happy, following her heart, and experiencing joy.  I hope she felt freedom and release and relief at deciding to put it all behind her.  I will honestly regret missing out on that part of her life for a long time because she so deserved it and it would have been nice to see her that way.  I can only imagine it now, but I hope that’s how it was.  She is an absolute inspiration still, and a reminder to live my life in a way that works for me no matter what that means.  It isn’t about making anyone else happy.  It’s about living as we are meant to.