This early morning, I sat beside my auntie in palliative care and watched as her short life came to a swift end. She was only thirty-five years old and radiated life and strength throughout her until the very end. A mother to four beautiful children; a sister to three older brothers; an auntie to nine growing nieces and nephews and a daughter to two precious parents. She was powerfully loved - and anyone that met her could attest to that. She had the most contagious laugh that could glow an entire room. She had a smile that stained her face at all times. She spoke in whispers that eased whatever mood you were in and she never failed to ask how you were, even if she herself was struggling. She was personified warmth and softness. The ocean of love that she gave and received could create mountains of waves; and that love will continue to grow stronger and more powerful with each day that follows.
In our final moments together we shared stories, reflected on old memories, laughed about her old boyfriends and my ageless clumsiness, sat and listened to music, sat and listened to silence, and thanked one another for an amazing twenty-four spent years together. One of the more special final moments we shared was when I asked her what advice she could give to someone like me who has their whole life still ahead of them and her response is one I think worth sharing.
These were Natalia’s lessons of life and her gift to both myself and now, you.
Stop paying so much attention to the things you don’t have and appreciate the things that you do have
Don’t argue - It is the biggest waste of time
Travel as much as you can
Tell people how you feel and do it quickly
Don’t forget to laugh
Music is medicine
Never take your health for granted
Just enjoy life for what it is. Don’t over complicate it.
She told me to keep on writing; and this written piece is not only dedicated to her but also to anyone reading who is still afforded time. After watching someone I love have their time prematurely stolen from them, I’ve come to realise that we all have a tendency to really misjudge what’s important. When you’re lying in bed of the hospital room, you don’t worry about how much you weigh, how much money you have in your account, what you’re wearing or how many followers you have. What matters is which people are in that room with you, reminiscing on funny moments that were shared, sitting in the comfort of one another and indulging in the wonderful simplicity of this thing called life until the very end.
Nat, I will always keep calling you home; and I will listen out for that laugh and those waves whenever the silence of time begins to grow louder. Thank you for illuminating enough light to last my lifetime. I love you so much and will forever miss you. Now rest up and I’ll see you again soon enough. We all will ✨
Love Chlo xx