One year ago, my aunt passed away unexpectedly on Christmas Eve. She was such an important part of my life and someone who really shaped who I became. When someone like that passes away you reflect a lot on the lessons they taught you that you never really realized were lessons. The things you just learned just by being around them, that they never used words to share. When we were looking for photos for her obituary, I came up empty, because I realized none of my photos captured the thing I remember most: the twinkle in her eye. She had this light, this twinkle in her eye, almost all the time. Like she knew the punchline to a joke, like she knew something you didn’t and was holding on just waiting for you to figure it out yourself, not wanting to steal the joy of getting to watch that unfold.

Even just remembering her like this I realize how big the hole is in the world now that she is gone. There just isn’t anyone that can replace her or fill in the presence that she brought. She was always the joy, her smile was always brightening the room, but it was the light in her eyes that showed you her smile came from a place of true joy.

So last Christmas, just a few hours after she passed, my children were opening their Christmas presents and when it was my turn, I opened up a present to find this:

It was a beautiful medal of the blessed Virgin Mary, that simply said “From Regina.” Of course, I was a sobbing mess. I wasn’t expecting a present from her, and this wasn’t her handwriting. My mom explained Regina had given her this medal to give to me a while ago and since she hadn’t yet, she tossed it in the gift so I would get it. Well, in God’s timing, it couldn’t have been more meaningful. We talk often about the last thing people say to us, the last thing they do, its what we remember. I can’t help but believe that this last gift from her just hours from when she passed way, was all for a reason. When I think of the light in her eyes, when I think of how she lived her whole life for others, when I think of the way she lived simply when she could have lived extravagantly, when I think of the way she never missed church, never missed daily prayer, lived her whole life loving God with her whole heart, I realize this was her secret. Mary. I could go on and on trying to convince you why Mary is such a gift to our faith. How she is our greatest prayer warrior, how she is so inspiring, and kind and brave and everything we women should strive to be. How when I try to order my life to be more like her I get closer to holiness. How when I pray my daily rosary life just works, I have what I need for what I’m facing and days when I don’t I come up short. But instead of going on and on, I’ll leave you with Regina’s short message instead. Because Regina didn’t use words often to evangelize. She quietly lived her life, she loved so deeply, and prayed so much, and I know knew it couldn’t be forced, and just hoped we would figure it out. Sat there eyes sparkling, waiting for us to finally get the punchline.

There was no message attached to this gift, just “From Regina.” No other message is needed. I reflected a lot on why I should be so special, to get a gift from heaven like that, to get her very last gift, and I only could come up with: because I would share it. I can’t do justice to explain to you who she was in black and white. I can’t seem to capture it and I want so badly for you to know her. If you did, you know the ache for the worlds loss of her and also the ache that others are missing out who never knew her. Maybe that’s how Jesus felt about his mom too. She just couldn’t be explained and captured in words. She was too incredible, to much of an experience you just had to meet her for yourself to understand. Maybe that’s why he gave us her as his last gift, when he said to the beloved disciple, “son behold your mother”. Jn 19:26 You just can’t be told about her, you just have to get to know her to understand.

I believe that last things matter. But again, here I go, with so many words when a life lived means so much more. There’s no amount of doctrine or theology or explaining that will convince you if her life didn’t. But if you knew her, if you were lucky enough to soak up the joy that was her beautiful life, then you know that light came from somewhere, and maybe, you’ll start with a simple prayer today, on the day Mary brought us the Light of the World, maybe you’ll believe she could show you that light too. Because she always always, always brings Jesus to us. Would you join me in praying the rosary today? Or just invite Mary to pray for you today? I don’t think anything is coincidence with God. The timing of Regina’s passing, on such an important day, and the timing of her last gift to me, her last gift to us all: a mother, the giver of the Light.