My aunt passed away towards the end of June 2021.  We were never particularly close, I visited her in California for a couple weeks when I was in middle school, but otherwise contact was limited.  She had some medical issues that prevented her from having children and (what I pieced together) a strained relationship with her father that caused her to sever most ties with the family, with perhaps some jealousy towards the family that my father was able to have.  When she passed away I went with my father to start the estate process.  She had no surviving family, so the next of kin role defaulted to my dad and I suspected that he would need help, if nothing more than emotional support. We walked into an apartment stacked with YEARS of junk mail and paperwork to sift through, books stacked waist high in every room, empty boxes of lightbulbs, and even burned out lightbulbs saved.  In the process of this sifting, I ran across a poem she had printed out that for some reason really struck a chord with me.  I remembered that she had written poetry and even been published in a couple smaller outlets.  She obviously had an attachment to it that spoke to her heart and experiences, but I detect a power in the somewhat universal feelings that are being explored, even if specifically written from a female point of view.

Comes the Dawn

author disputed...

After a while, you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning

And company doesn't mean security,

And you begin to understand that kisses aren't contracts

And presents aren't promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head held high and your eyes open,

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.

You learn to build your roads on today,

Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans,

And futures have a way of falling in midflight.

After a while, you learn that even sunshine

Burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden

And decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure,

That you really are strong,

That you really do have worth,

And you learn and learn...and learn...

With every Goodbye, you learn.