Some people arrive in your life with a quiet steadiness, and before you know it, they’ve become part of the fabric of who you are.
My Aunt Bren is one of those people. More like a second mother. A partner in crime. Someone to sing along to the radio with. Someone to get ice cream after school, or to cry with when things weren’t going so well. Someone I watched slip away, and not quietly. She made an indelible impression on me in her too short life. I love her deeply, and I miss her just as much.
She is also the one who named Blanche, many years ago, when a small white kitten needed a home and a name to belong to. That, in itself, feels like her—seeing something vulnerable and responding with care.
This photo is one I’ve always loved. It captures something simple and true—two people, close together, sharing a moment. The birth of her grandson…my nephew. No pretense. Just warmth. Joy.
May 10 is her birthday.
And while birthdays come and go, what they really give us is a moment to pause and recognize the people who have shaped our lives in quiet, lasting ways. When those people are gone, it makes it even more bittersweet.
I am grateful for her—for her kindness, her steadiness, her laughter, her intelligence, and her gentleness. I am grateful for the role she has played in my story.
Happy Birthday, Aunt Bren 💛