My Cousin Donna

My cousin, Donna, died yesterday.  Colleen and I had gone to visit her in the morning, not knowing that she was so close to death.  We left thinking we'd see her again in a few days, and we were not prepared for the phone call that came last night.

When we got to Donna's room, she was sitting in a wheelchair, bent over, because she said it helped her breathe better.  She would answer our questions, but that was about it.  She was sick.  She was tired.  She said she just wanted to sleep.

A physical therapist was with her.  She had gotten Donna up and dressed and out of bed.  She said it was only the second time she'd worked with Donna, and I looked at my cousin and thought, "God, how I wish you could have known her like she was!"

This is the Donna I wanted to tell her about...the Donna that I will remember:

A cousin who took 3 little girls for sleepovers at her apartment and hid presents around the rooms for really fun scavenger hunts; who knew Crazy Foam was a favorite; who had bendy straws and made blue milk for breakfast.

A cousin who made polkadot ceramic mushrooms for those 3 little girls and Christmas ornaments for all the cousins one year.  (Mine still hangs on my tree.)

A cousin who let us use her house for our parents' 25th wedding anniversary, who probably paid for most of it, since we were young, but who never let on like we needed to pay her for anything.

A cousin who hosted bridal showers and baby showers; who handmade all of the invitations, each one different from the other, with teapots and flowers and ribbons; who gave the best, most perfect presents...a basket of pretty towels and washcloths rolled up with goodies tucked inside...diapers and baby toys and onesies made into a "cake" or a wreath...an Easter basket with a bunny book and then the bunnies to go with it...

A cousin who could always be counted on to bring not one, but six, pies to Thanksgiving dinner; who made the best potato casserole; who insisted on bringing all of those things and artichoke dip as well.

A cousin who always brought the cutest little hostess gift whenever she came to my house, even if she was bringing six pies, potato casserole, and artichoke dip.

A cousin who loved to go to lunch with cousins at the cutest places in town and then browse antique and gift shops after.

A cousin who filled 100 Easter eggs with candy and quarters and the occasional dollar bills to hide for a massive egg hunt where everybody wins.

A cousin who sent birthday cards to my kids with $5 tucked inside.

A cousin with a knack for decorating, who loved pottery and baskets and colorful chickens and little brown rabbits; who adored teapots filled with the flowers that she grew in her yard.

A cousin who was more like a sister or an aunt or a friend, who would always help if I needed anything, who loved my kids, who delighted in giving, who was always there until now.

I know this is the way of things.  That people die.  Families change.  Life goes on.  But damn, it just leaves a great big hole where they used to be.