Iceland

Tomorrow I start the journey. Feels like an epic one. Significant. In so many different ways.

We are taking my aunt's ashes to Iceland, so she can rest with her sisters. All of the Canadian family is going. My mother, my father, my brother, my cousin (Disa's second daughter), and me. Haven't been to Iceland with all of my family together since I was 10 (and my cousin wasn't even born yet). I will be on the flight to Reykjavik with all of my immediate family, first time I have been on a flight with all of my immediate family in maybe a couple of decades. And really, I have to notice that this united pilgrimage to my mother land (or maybe just my mother's land) is because my aunt was such a significant force in our lives, even if not an everyday part.

She moved to Canada for many reasons, but the invitation came because my mother was pregnant with me and she wanted the comfort and support of family, and more Icelandic voices to help us children learn what was our first language, long gone rusty now. She was like a second mother to me, often taking care of me when my mother was doing other things. And in many ways, especially in my personality, I take after Disa more so than any of the other sisters. Including my mother.

She had her flaws, we all do. But she loved me, in that way that sometimes parents can't because they have to try to "raise you right". As I have already said, she wasn't an everyday part of my life, but she was always looking over me. More so now I guess.

And losing her to cancer. Just a year and a quarter after her older sister died of cancer. Well, it feels so very close to home. And scary. And a frightening reminder that it doesn't always go as well as it did for me. On other occasions cancer related deaths get me angry and feisty. This one rocked me, and knocked me back a bit.

Time now to regroup. Time to honour who she was and what she gave me. Time to remember how very lucky I am. Time to be with my family, really be with them, in whatever form their grief takes. Just time away from the frantic pace of my life. Maybe a chance to reflect, maybe just a chance to raise a glass, to all the women that came before me.