allie-lwbgr9xsrxc-unsplash-1random%white-lillies1-300x225-1-2random%I don’t like funerals and I don’t like speaking in front of groups, small or large. No, let me rephrase that; I am terrified of speaking in front of groups! So when my husband’s dear Aunt passed away, I knew that I wanted to share a few memories and feelings, but attending the funeral was the best I could do. Speaking aloud was not an option for me.

I instead chose to sit down and write a heartfelt letter to Aunt Erma and allow the pastor to read it along with a favorite poem on my behalf. It was simple and included everything I wanted to say. No one wants to attend funerals for loved ones, but, when we have to this method of sharing is best for someone like me.

I hope that the following personal letter will give you some ideas and it is also my way of honoring Aunt Erma on the anniversary of her passing.

Dear Aunt Erma,

I don’t remember the day we first met, I feel as though you have always been a part of my life. You opened your heart to me and accepted me into your family with such love. Though your blood does not run through my veins, your love always has.

I will miss our special times together talking and sharing our hearts and thoughts through the years. I will miss your quick wit and humor. I will miss those Sonic Burgers we shared together. You have been a wonderful Aunt and a blessing in my life.

Though our suffering began with losing you, your suffering is over and I can only imagine the joy in that wonderful reunion with those that left before you. I picture you setting at the table having your cup of coffee and meal with your loved ones that you so longed to be with again, with Goldi by your side. I am comforted to know that you are now in God’s care—no better place to be!

You will always have a special place in my heart and I will miss you so much!

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am with you still – I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain. I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room. I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing. Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye