The Longest Day of the Year

And that is saying something in Iceland, with the midnight sun and all. But it is the "and all" that concerns me today. Because today feels longer than 24 hours (and really it actually is longer, much longer, days longer).
Today is the day we buried my aunt.
Here.
In Iceland.
And had the memorial. And visited with all the relations and school friends.
Long. Hard. Tiring.
Extra long and tiring as I stayed up late into the "night" last night with my aunt's youngest daughter. Being with her in her pain and tears. Having some of my own.

And not just long and hard and tiring, but also significant.
And important.
And meaningful (Just two days after what would have been Disa's birthday).

And with all the intensity of family dynamics that probably come with every funeral, but are heightened in this situation. I wish it could be different, a joyous celebration of her life. But it is like there is a cancer not just running so rampant in so many bodies in the world, but also running rampant in the communities and families of today. Where they are eating themselves from the inside out. And maybe it is not "today", in "this age", maybe this is just what family is like. The intensity that comes from living in close quarters, sharing tasks, and sharing life. And because I only have memories of living in this age I have nothing to compare it to, and so I wonder why it is so hard and harsh. Assuming it was better in a different era, not a self consuming cancer of the emotions. Perhaps it is sorting out the cancer of the emotions that will free us to address the cancers that are eating our bodies. But that is a pondering for a different day.

Today is just to honour my aunt.
Bless you and god speed my dear, as you go to be with your sisters.