Happy Birthday, Aunt Dawn!

Aunt Dawn,

When I think of you, I think of a friend or big sister. I always thought you were so cool. As a kid, I looked up to you so much. Most of my early memories of you are centered around shopping, trips to the beach,watching movies and just hanging out. I felt like the little sister always tagging along.

I spent a lot of time with you when I was younger. I never understood then just how thankful I'd be for that now. As a teen, I remember babysitting Aaron, Sheena and John during the summers. I remember back then, I was glad for the money and the "power trip" of bossing them around. Now, I am grateful for the time I had to spend with them and build relationships.

I remember trips to the beach...riding rides, eating junk, playing games, getting iron on t-shirts. One trip that stands out in my memory was when Aaron was a baby. I remember us stopping at one of those sidewalk artists. You gave them a small wallet size picture of Aaron and the artist drew it much larger in oil pastels (I think). Do you still have that picture? I remember it so clearly. The sweetness of his face. The red and blue outfit. Ah, seems like it was yesterday.

I remember fishing trips, especially when you lived in Chesapeake City. I still remember catching my very first sunfish with a little snoopy fishing pole. That fish was probably only a few inches long, but you'd think I caught a great white shark!

I remember fourth of July fireworks and sparklers in the yard. That was the Chesapeake City house too, I think. Wasn't that the year Aaron turned three? I remember him wearing red swimming trunks and playing in one of those little blue plastic swimming pools we used to get from K-mart. He was having a grand time playing in the pool until the fireworks started. He stood up, pointed to the fireworks and said "See 'dat? 'dat says Happy Birfday Aaron".

Every year as far back as I can remember, when the fire works start, I whisper to myself "Happy Birthday, Aaron".

I have never been a big fan of shopping, but I loved shopping with you. It was always fun when we left the boys home and Sheena and I would go shopping with you. Do you remember the time we went shoe shopping in Elkton? You bought me those hideous faux giraffe fur boots. Those were a treasure to me and I crammed my feet in them until they were at least two sizes too small.

Some of my favorite memories were hanging out with you after the kids were in bed. It always made me feel like a grown up. We'd stay up late watching movies and laughing until we were crying. I always felt so special getting to eat doritos and drink pepsi way past my bedtime. I always felt like you listened to me. You "got" me and loved me for who I was, you enjoyed my company. So often, I felt like a burden and a nuisance, but not when I was with you. You might have thought I was annoying, but you never ever made me feel that way.

Of course, I also remember not so great things. Like the time I was a snot to John and it caused a fight between you and my mom. That's the time that Pop-pop grabbed you both and said "Go to your rooms" and I was shocked that both of you, now adults, obeyed him immediately. Even those not so great memories usually have something funny connected to them!

You were always special to me...a special Aunt, a special friend. However, nothing could have prepared me for the conversation that changed my life forever and the connection I have with you. (I know that sounds very dramatic, but it's true)

It was early Spring of 1999 and I was pregnant with Jerald. I went to Amy and Jimmy's baby shower more out of family duty than anything else. I was hormonal, grumpy and really didn't want to go. I hate the games and things of those events and really couldn't wait to leave when it was over. (no offense to other family members, I don't even like my own parties).

As I was walking out to my car, you followed me and stopped me in my tracks when you said, "Kelly, I have something I need to tell you". I really don't remember any of the conversation except for one sentence. "Aaron is really your half brother".

In that moment, with that one sentence, you became so much more than just an Aunt or a friend. As my relationship with Aaron changed, grew deeper, so my relationship with you also changed. I'm not sure the same was true for you, but for me I loved your entire family more deeply. That continued as I built a relationship with Aaron that went beyond being cousins and moved towards being siblings.

The next several years, our life's journey went in different directions and we really didn't keep in touch (I'm sad about that by the way). Yet, Aaron remained our connection.

I didn't think a sentence from your mouth could change my life so much a second time.

I was wrong. Very wrong.

Hearing "Aaron is really your brother" was hard to process.

Hearing "Aaron isn't doing well and the doctors don't think he's going to make it" was infinitely more difficult.

Aunt Dawn, I cannot begin to explain what it meant to me that you included me in the most difficult thing you've ever gone through.

You embraced me as Aaron's sister and included me in conversations with his doctors, decisions about his care and later the decisions about his tombstone and funeral. Obviously, not something I'd ever in a million years want to go through. Yet, letting me be included was an honor...it was a level of acceptance that I cannot explain. I felt like it was one final opportunity to be close to him, to be included in his life, to be recognized as his sister, to love him through the toughest of life's circumstances.

You could have excluded me for so many reasons and no one would have faulted you for it. Yet you didn't do that. Thank you will never be adequate.

I cannot ever come close to understanding how much your heart hurts still six years later. I want you to know that there isn't a day that goes by without me thinking of you. I pray for you, I cry for you, I ache for you, I grieve with you. Every day.

I love you, Aunt Dawn. I love you because you are my Aunt. I love you because you are my friend. I love you because you are Aaron's mother. I love you because you have loved me, cared for me, built a relationship with me and accepted me.

As life leads us in different directions, lets remember that Aaron will always be our connection. I think it's no coincidence that my two most vivid memories of you are both centered around him. The first, when he was a newborn and you were cuddling with him on Mom-mom's bed. I could have stayed there for hours watching him sleep. The second, standing at his hospital bed, next to you, as I said "Auf wiedersehen" and not goodbye.

I hope you had a special birthday and that it was a little easier this year than last. It is my prayer that as time goes on, you will begin to see the tapestry of God's grace even through the most difficult moments of your life. I pray that you will know Him more deeply and see Him as the great Comforter and Healer.

Love,
Kel