(Photo: J chose camping in the Sequoias for our family reunion last year. He is standing with his wife holding his baby on the right side of the photo. His little brother 4E is right behind him. His mother is next to him leaning toward her partner. His stepson is standing in back wearing a hat.)
On Thanksgiving day we learned that the doctors had decided there was nothing more they could do for my cousin. He entered hospice care, spent a lovely 2 weeks at the beach feeling strong and seeing people, celebrated his son’s first birthday, and returned home for the holidays. Early in the morning on Epiphany he died.
I thought I could write more now, but the words aren’t forming. I had the same problem yesterday, trying to send out emails to people I wanted to know. This is my original post, My Cousin J, written when we still thought there was hope.
I’m doing okay. There really is something about having time to prepare…yet one is never prepared. Anyway…since I started the story on here, I thought I should finish it. I’m sure I’ll add more eventually. For now I’m just holding on to Dame Julian, “All shall be well…”
My cousin 4E, J’s baby brother, has spent the past 2 years pretty much doing whatever J needed him to do. He took care of him (in turn with his mom and my brother) after the stem cell transplant. He has been faithfully at his side the last weeks, sleeping in the room with him, walking beside him, caring for him. For 4E, I pray. And my brother, and J’s wife and stepson and baby boy, and mom, and dad, and his other brother who has been there as much as he could while still being responsible to his own baby boy (the baby cousins are about a month apart in age, just 8 and 9 months younger than my boy. And another cousin has a boy 5 months older than that. It’ll be fun to watch them grow up together. And we will hold on to that baby and his big brother and their mom, too. They will know what it means to have family. We are a little overwhelming even, but that’s another story.)