Valerie

My Grandpa used to be a professional photographer, and after cleaning through the garage this week he found his old set of Nikon lenses. He offered them to me, and lo & behold they work with my DSLR just fine. So, you know, been playing with that lately.

This coming week I'll be heading to Utah for the funeral of my Aunt Valerie, who passed away recently after a long and lentghy battle with cancer. I've been having a lot of internet-regret lately - that feeling when you aren't blogging/commenting enough . . . and the few times I have been on, it's been to play on Pinterest.

But the worst is my lack of emailing. More importantly, that I was told that though Valerie wasn't up for responding to emails much, she still loved receiving them and having them read to her. I promised myself I would write to her, but didn't get around to it. Now she's gone, and I have no one to blame but myself for my lack of commitment to simply sit down and write an email to my aunt.

So this one's for you, Valerie:

Remember when my father and I came to visit a few years ago? 2006 or 2007, I think? Your hair was thinning from all the treatment you were getting and you asked if I could cut it for you into a more flattering style. I did my best; I wanted so much for you to like it. You're a kind enough person that you never would have told me if you hated it. You used to make me bracelets and necklaces for every birthday & Christmas. I still wear them from time to time.

I remember that you weren't fond of driving, particularly unprotected lefts, and you hated those green wheat smoothies the doctors insisted you drink. But you did so anyway, with a smile on your face, joking that the cancer in your tongue made it so you didn't really taste it anyway.

Jaclyn and I used to say that you and Grandma should have used all that money on a never ending trip around the world, just the two of you on a private yacht. But you were more selfless than that, and cared for family more than pyramids or ruins or oceans or caves. I thank you for that. I love you, and loved every moment I had with you, even if they were few.

I hope you and Pam are making fun of us from heaven.

Love,
Jules