I awaken, paddle on bare feet into the kitchen, and commence the morning routine—clearing away last night’s dinner dishes (a fabulous meal my cousin Christine prepared for us), brewing coffee, and taking Beaumont, the Sheepadoodle, out for his early morning business. Upon our return, I busy myself puttering around the kitchen, aimless, uncertain of what the day holds.

In moments like these, my Aunt Maggie’s words echo in my mind, “Je dis! Je dis! Je dis!” Though it doesn’t directly translate to “What to do? What to do? What to do?” it perfectly encapsulates my feelings of being adrift, distracted, and wearied—far better than the English version of “I say” (its direct translation) ever could.

It has been a busy few days. I returned from my visit to the coast with my eldest daughter and step-daughter on Thursday evening and later that night, my cousin Christine arrived from France for three days to help us commemorate Jackie’s celebration of life and to represent “The French Connection” as Jackie affectionately called our relatives in France. It was a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with Christine and to practice my (very rusty) French. Perhaps one of my favourite comments over the weekend was Christine’s when she said that she too was feeling good about practicing her English– not to mention becoming adept at translating my French into French! 🙂

During her stay, Christine gently reminded me that we are not, in fact, of French descent. Our roots trace back to Anglo-Indian and Euro-Asian ancestry. Most of our mothers’ family left India in 1947, coinciding with India’s independence and the partition into India and Pakistan. They held French passports and citizenship due to their birthplace in Pondicherry—a French colony until 1947. After departing India, they sought refuge in Vietnam, another French colony at the time. Christine’s father, George, who married my mother’s sister Eveline, had Vietnamese heritage. In 1954, when the French left Vietnam, they migrated to France—a foreign land in many respects. Christine and her siblings, like most of my cousins, were born in France.

But I digress.

Having lived on adrenaline, and a whole bunch of coffee this past while, this morning I feel beyond tired. It’s a unique weariness that settles deep within, making my body feel heavier than my skeleton’s capacity to lift it out of bed. When I awoke this morning, I pondered my choices for quite awhile– Wake C.C. and ask him to make me a latte, delivered in bed, to fuel my morning writing session, or slip out of bed silently, so as not to disturb him and Beaumont, who slumbered at the bed’s end.

I opted for the latter, finding my way into the kitchen and living room where I now sit at my desk, gazing out at the flowing river.

The past two weeks have been consumed by preparations for Jackie’s Celebration of Life—a labour of love alongside my brother-in-law, Jim, and his daughters. The celebration, held on Saturday, was a beautiful tribute that encapsulated everything Jackie would have desired, Jim assured me.

I am grateful. As the officiant, I harbored fears of delivering words that might inflict more pain upon Jim. I worried that I might falter and disrupt the ceremony’s flow.

This was important to me. I wanted to ensure Jackie’s send-off was both a celebration and a heartfelt tribute to my beloved big sister. I wanted everyone present, Jim foremost among them, to feel cocooned in her love and to understand the depth of her wonderful spirit.

I believe it worked. In the reception’s aftermath, several attendees approached me, inquiring if I would officiate their ceremonies when the time came!

These past four weeks have been marked by undue stress, sadness, and sorrow, punctuated by the joy of spending time with my daughters, grandchildren, and sister Anne. While this wasn’t the outcome we had hoped for when Jackie was rushed into surgery and then into the ICU on November 10th, it is the outcome we have been given.

With a heart brimming with love intermingled with sorrow and grief over her absence, I sit and watch the river flow. I recognize that the inevitable conclusion of every life is the end, leading us to spread our wings of love and venture into the profound mystery of the unknown beyond.

In that mystery, there lies the eternal hope—that one day, we shall reunite on the other side.

Namaste.