July 10, 2007

• Cousins

  I had a cousin that died, when I was 10.  I don’t think about her all the time, and who even knows if I remember her right, but I think my oldest daughter reminds me of her when reminding me of our common grandmother.   A certain smile or a certain enthusiasm.  I didn’t realize how difficult that was for the family when it happened.  It wasn’t a complete surprise, except maybe for the timing.  She had a congenital defect that was going to make it inevitable, I believe.  Not that you ever really know what medical miracles could be possible if you survive long enough. 

   

  My wife lost a cousin this July 4^th.  He was 34.  Some kind of prescription meds mix up.  The details aren’t real easy to come by.  But it was a surprise.  Pictures from his son in the casket with him.  Guilt from a friend (involved in the mixup?)  Forgiveness from his mother.  People that don’t see each other anymore, back together again. 

   

  I remember that the phone kept ringing in the middle of the night.  One time I answered it to find my dad talking with his sister.  “It’s ok, Andy, I’ve got it,” he said, and I went back to sleep.

  • 1:05 pm
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