Losing another cousin
Susan Hodges Payne Cosner Demitry.
13 July 1954. 15 November 2014.
What can I begin to say about those years?
How do I begin to say goodbye?
How do I begin to describe the twinkling eyes, the bright smile, the contagious laugh, the love of home and family that so marked her years on this earth?
How do I begin to recount the many kindnesses she did for so many people? Just as one example, how she — then a breast cancer survivor — took the second shift and came and stayed with me after my own breast cancer surgery when my sister had to get back to her family and job.
How do I begin to come to terms with the loss of someone who is so much a part of my own history?
Daughter of my mother’s sister. My first cousin. And, as in so many families, among the first and best and closest of childhood friends — and childhood foes.
Just close enough in age to be a frequent playmate — and co-conspirator in all the trouble kids can get into.
Just far enough apart in age to be frequently at each other’s throats: “but Mom, she’s too young to…” on my side; “but Mom, she won’t let me…” on hers.
We played together. We picked blackberries together. We gathered in tomatoes from our grandmother’s garden together. We closed ranks against cousins younger or older, as the winds of change blew.
And we fought together. Oh, how we fought. We fought about who got the last piece of cinnamon toast on a summer morning. Or who got to sit by the window on the car ride. Or whose bouquet of fresh-picked wildflowers (and weeds) was better. Or anything else that happened to present itself at any given moment in time as a source of competition or annoyance.
We grew apart at times in our lives. And we grew together as time went on and all the things that seemed to have divided us when we were younger were revealed as so much less important in the long run than all the things that brought us together.
The joys we shared over the years. The pains we shared. The cares, the concerns, the laughter, the tears.
Our battles with cancer, which I so far have won and which, yesterday, she lost.
Right down to our shared maternal H3g mitochondrial DNA, our family — our love for this big bold brash group of people we call kin — is what we shared most of all.
And that big bold brash group of people is smaller today.
Less bold.
Less brash.
And much diminished.
Rest in peace, dear cousin.
You are so very much loved… and will be so very much missed.
Wonderful tribute. I am so very sorry for your loss,Judy!
Thanks so much, Cheri. She was very special to us… and will be so missed.
Sympathy for your loss. You will always cherish the memories. I feel now I need to reconnect with some of my cousins.
Thanks, Susan… and oh yes I feel that same need, big time.
A lovely tribute to your cousin.My deepest condolences on you and your family’s loss.
Thanks, Tina.
What a lovely tribute. I am so sorry for your loss; you and your family are in my prayers.
Thanks so much, Tracy.
I feel your loss, cousin, whether she’s on the “right side” to be related to me or not. I’ve come to believe that time is the only healer in times like these. Remember her fondly and take care of yourself in her honor.
She definitely is on the “right” side, Mary Ann, so a loss in your family too, darn it.
My sincere condolences. May you find comfort in your memories.
Thanks, Amy.
Thank you for sharing such a lovely tribute. I do hope you will find a modicum of comfort from the wonderful, and even not-so-wonderful, memories of the times you shared with someone you loved.
Thanks so much, Bev. I know the memories will help, down the road. Today… not so much.
You and the entire extended family are in our thoughts and prayers today.
Thanks so much, Charlie. Much appreciated!
I’m proud to also call you Cousin, and I know you can be assured that she is smiling down at you with all the love you shared with her.
She was your cousin, too, Larry, and I so wish she could have had a chance to meet more of our extended family.
i am sorry for your loss.
Thanks, Liz. Much appreciated.
What a beautiful tribute to your cousin. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thanks, Jana. Our cousins are so special to us, aren’t they?
Such terrible news, though this blog post was beautiful. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thanks for your kindness.
Judy,
I can only echo the comments those who have posted before me, both the sorrow at your loss and the praise for the beautiful tribute you gave your cousin. You are in my thoughts at this time of trouble.
Thanks for your kindness, Jack. We all are hurting today…
Heartwrenching. I am so terribly sorry for your loss. Cancer sucks.
Oh, yes, indeed, cancer sucks BIG time. Thanks for your kindness.
I am so sorry for your loss. What a beautiful tribute.
Thanks so much, Dana.
Oh Judy, so very sorry for your loss, and condolences to all your family.
Continued good health in your own battle with cancer.
Thanks so much, on both counts, Nancy. I am so fortunate in my own health battles… and wish I could have shared that with Susan…
Judy,
My deepest sympathy in the loss of your dear cousin and to all the family. Your words were beautifully written. May all the wonderful memories you shared be comforting to you.
Thanks so much, Roz. I know the time will come when those memories help make me smile. Today they just bring the tears.
In the midst of your sorrow and grieving, I can speak for myself by saying that your beautiful writing brought tears to my eyes. My sincere condolences to you and your family
Thanks so very much, Linda. Susan was so special to us all.
I am so very sorry for your loss. You have honored her well with this beautiful tribute.
Thanks so much, Debi. She was such a special person.
Dear friend, I’m so sorry for your loss. Here’s a poem that may offer you some peace.
I’m Gone now, but I’m still very near.
Death can never separate us.
Each time you feel a gentle breeze,
It’s my hand caressing your face.
Each time the wind blows,
It carries my voice whispering your name.
When the wind blows your hair ever so slightly,
Think of it as me pushing a few stray hairs back in place.
When you feel a few raindrops fall on your face,
It’s me placing soft kisses.
At night look up in the sky and see the stars shining so brightly.
I’m one of those stars and I’m winking at you and smiling with delight.
For never forget you’re the apple of my eye.
— Mary M. Green
Love,
Tom
Awww… thanks so much, Tom. I’ll have to reread that lovely poem some time when my eyes aren’t quite so full of tears…
Dear Judy,
Your memories will keep her near and help sustain you. I’m so very sorry for your loss.
Doris
Thanks so much for your kindness, Doris.
Thank you so much for writing – it touched my soul
We all hurt when we lose a cousin, don’t we? Thanks.
I’m sorry about the loss of your cousin. Cousins are sometimes our first friends or like a sister from another mister. I do wish you and yours comfort during this time.
Thanks, Mimi. Cousins are very important to us all…
You have touched my heart and I hurt for you. I have a cousin just like Susan, as I know so many do. Your words ring with so much truth and so many memories. May God comfort you.
Thanks so much. All of us have cousins who were among our oldest friends, don’t we?
Sorry for your loss.
Thanks, Chris.
Judy, you are fortunate to have had a cousin like her in your life, even for a short time. My prayers are with you and your family at this difficult time. Hank
Thanks, Hank, and oh yes… I know I was so very lucky.
Wow, such a wonderful expression of love for your dear cousin. How fortunate you were to be in each other’s lives and be able to experience such a special bond. Truly a thing of beauty. My thoughts are with you and your loved ones Judy. I hope your heart is on the mend real soon.
Kind regards,
Nancy
Thanks for your kindness, Nancy. It is very hard losing a cousin.