"you're looking sharp, kid."

My Aunt Jan passed away on Friday night.

A long battle with cancer makes the ending a bit more complicated. There is relief mixed in with the grief. She fought hard. She fought long. And part of me is comforted by the fact that she is comfortable again. And feasting at a heavenly banquet after two years of a feeding tube. She has a voice again, with a whole and healed body.

But she still died too early. Cancer is cruel.

When Ivar and I were in Mesa he loved visiting Aunt Jan's house, because Aunt Jan clapped. And he could clap too. Without her voice, this is how Aunt Jan got our attention to look at her laptop or notebook so she could contribute to the conversation. Ivar thought this was the greatest. Before we'd even get through her front door he'd start clapping. "I like this lady, she's the one who knows how to clap!" And they would smile and laugh and clap and delight in the other.

Today we'll join in the clapping. Applause, applause to Aunt Jan, for a long and strong fight. For loving her grandkids to pieces and scrapbooking their childhoods (HUGE books for each of her grandchildren!), taking the time to interview, compile and print our family lineage, history, stories. Applause for maintaining strong relationships with our Swedish relatives through travel and endless correspondence. For spending her working days as an advocate for those with mental illness. For making the world more beautiful through her art: stained glass, knitted sweaters, rosemaling, and numerous crafts. For her love of color and kosta boda glass, her bright blue couch, thanksgiving feasts and banana bars.

Applause for coming to so many of my band concerts, plays and recitals. And for always saying the same thing each time she saw me, "You're looking sharp, kid."