I was awfully quiet about it last year, but I lost two family members.

In July, my uncle had almost fully recovered from a bout of pneumonia when COVID-19 caught him. He and I hadn't been close in some time, but he was the last one left in my mom's side of the family and that hit her pretty hard.

Mom had been a medical disaster for some time. The details aren't necessary; the relevant part is that nearly twenty years ago I got the phone call from Dad that she probably wouldn't live through the night... but she surprised all of us, and she kept on surprising us. I got so many of those calls over the years, but she was too stubborn to let go, and she remained the closest of my family members.

When Mom lost her brother, I guessed that the next severe medical issue would be the one when she let go, and I was right. It wasn't COVID, but complications around COPD, much like most of her family before her.

I miss her. I've had a few little bouts of grieving, but not a whole lot. I had nearly two decades to come to grips with all that, plenty of advance warning. So I didn't make a big deal of things. Everybody I knew was already in a constant state of shock, and nobody needed the additional weight.

But here I am, exactly one year later. I tried to plan something a little more elaborate as far as a remembrance, but the truth is that I felt too scattered to make it happen, and Mom didn't want anyone to get too fancy on her account anyhow, so this is probably ideal. I'm not looking for responses or anything, I just... wanted to say.

Last year, I lost two family members.

So it goes.