I have known that my cousin Phyllis was sick for a couple of years now. She is only a few years older than I am. She is the daughter of my grandfather’s youngest sister. It’s pretty cool actually that those two branches of the family tree should be so close in age! As a younger cousin, I of course admired and wished to emulate everything I saw my older cousin say and do. I remember once that I heard her say that she was going to sew all of her clothes and that inspired me to learn how to sew. I admired her country ways, her simplicity, the fact that she and her sisters and mother could harmonize to just about any song they chose to sing, I admired her homesteading with her husband.
I got the chance to tell her that once at her father’s funeral. But I sure wish I had said it more often.
When she was first diagnosed, my sister and I sent a ham. We figured it would cut down on coooking and they would have something to pick on and make sandwhiches. It was our way of reaching out with food!
After Rosie was born she sent me a note to tell me how much it meant to her mom that we had named the baby after her. (Rosie’s middle name is the same as my aunt’s.) I always meant to write her back.
And then I heard she was doing better and I just felt assured. She was going to live for a long time. There would be more visits, and more family reunions, and just more time.
And then she wasn’t doing better. My sister and I sent her a huge box of mixed chocolates. Someone told my sister that when she was going through chemo the only thing she wanted to eat was chocolate and that she so appreciated the chocolate someone at work sent her. So we sent my cousin chocolate. But it was just to make her feel better. She was going to be better. There was going to be more time.
And I knew better. I’ve known folks with cancer before. In my experience you can’t really take the “feeling good” time for granted. It doesn’t always last.
So last night I got an e-mail from another second cousin. It seems that the end is very near, probably this week. And I started cursing that we did not make that trip last summer. We didn’t have the funds so we stayed home, but maybe we should have charged it all just to have a one more visit. Why didn’t I write her back after the baby came?
So I got our her phone number. I punched in all the numbers except the last one. Then I hung up. What was I going to say? How was I going to apologize for not being more communicative? I was going to feel awkward.
And then I remembered, that when I have had a tragedy in my life, losing a loved one, it has always meant so much to me to have people reach out through cards and letters, phone calls, and yes I even received a ham once myself! This wasn’t about me, or how I was feeling. This was about my cousin and her family and trying to give them some comfort.
So I called. Her lovely now-all-grown-up-and-married daughter answered. She identified herself with her married name, and I teased her about it. She laughed. It was good. She told me that her mom is sleeping a lot, is confused, will sleep more and more and then go into a coma and die. They are just waiting for that and being at her bedside. I told her that on behalf of my sister, my mom and my family we were praying for her, praying for them, thinking about them all and wishing we could be there with them. And she sincerely thanked me for that. That meant a lot to them. She asked me about my family. I told her my little “Dorothy” is a spitfire just like the original Dorothy. She laughed again, but I could tell it was time to let her get back to her life there. It was a good conversation. I’m glad I called. I think letting her know that they are surrounded all over the country by family and friends that are praying for them made a difference.
Today, I’m sending another ham.
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