It’s a quiet New Year’s Eve celebration for me. The tree has yet to be taken down–it’s the only confetti I’ll be seeing. I didn’t even take the time to buy champagne–I’ll be toasting in the New Year with a bottle of water. All’s quiet on the home front; and that’s precisely the way I want it.

As you may have guessed from my radio silence, it’s been a week. I did get in a bit of that extended celebration. I hosted a couple more dinners, with plenty of gifts, laughter, and conversation to go around. And just when I was thinking 2011 was sure to go out on a high note, I received that dreaded phone call. My aunt Karma was gone.

Karma was one of the bonuses our family received when my grandmother married my grandpa Vern. Not only did my grandma finally find a good man, and my mom and her siblings, a good father–they received an extended family, too. Mainly, two sons {brothers}, and a daughter {sister}.

While the kids were all older when our families combined, they seemed to hit it off. By the time I came on the scene, I couldn’t tell the difference between my blood relatives and my adopted. We joined each other for holidays and BBQs; we celebrated marriages and births; we shared tears and laughter.

That’s what I remember most about my aunt Karma–her laughter. If she wasn’t laughing, she was smiling. And her smile could light up the room. It was infectious.

The second thing I remember most was her voice–softspoken, there was something in her voice that could instantly put you at ease. It’s hard to explain, but hearing her talk was like coming home.

She was girly, yet she loved muscled cars. She was smart; she could figure out anything she put her mind to. She adored her family. She loved those around her. And I’m not talking about a weak, selfish love. No, she stuck it out. She believed in those whom the rest of us had long abandoned hope.

Come to think of it, I’ve never given much credence to the idea of someone dying into the role of an angel; but my aunt Karma does make me wonder. With just enough spunk to keep people in line, but more than enough love to cover a multitude of sins, she’d be a good one. So if you happen to catch a glimpse of someone who looks vaguely like this . . .

Someone who comes into your life briefly, to mend hearts and make things a bit brighter, be thankful for the time you’ve been given. I know I am.

Still, I’d like a bit more.

You see, after my grandpa passed away, those big family dinners fell by the wayside. Years passed and we didn’t see our extended family. If we did it was usually a big, busy gathering–a wedding or a funeral, maybe a birthday celebration. The last time I actually sat down with my aunt Karma and had a nice long chat, was well over two years ago. We met for lunch–we talked and laughed and reminisced. We promised to do it more often.

Yet today, as we said goodbye to another year, we laid my aunt to rest.

So as you set out to make those New Year’s resolutions, I pray keeping in touch with loved ones be at the top of your list. Because, life is fleeting and final goodbyes are hard. Looking back with sorrow on all that you missed is all the harder . . .

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne