The Three Cousins - Dark Chocolate

One of the things I believe sets humankind above other creation is the ability to have memories. Memories do, by their very nature, produce a variety of emotions, some positive, some negative, and some a mixture of the two. That must be where we get the term “bittersweet.” The dictionary defines it as “both bitter and sweet to the taste” like dark chocolate and “both pleasant and painful” like a memory.

That is how our family finds itself today. We received word that my husband’s cousin out east has passed away. Let me tell you a little about him.

My husband’s mother was one of three children of a farm couple. Of the three, two stayed in the area and followed in their father’s farming footsteps. The other married an engineer and lived in several places around the world. Yet, they always came back to the farm as often as possible.

I find it interesting that each of the three had only one child, all boys, and all three sons were born within a year of each other. Needless to say, since they each were an “only child,” the three were closer than most cousins.

The cousins grew up and two of the three followed their grandfather’s farming occupation, while the third became an airplane pilot and lived in a variety of cities. Yet he, too, always came back to the farm as often as possible. Though miles separated the one from the other two, they remained close.

The years passed and the three “boys” became grandfathers. The traveling one retired near the beach out east. We knew some time ago that he had not been feeling well, but hoped for his recovery and his return to the farm for a visit.

Because of the oil spill in the gulf last summer, our family decided to vacation at the east coast instead of Florida. Fortunately, we were not too far from the east coast cousin, and he and his darling wife drove down and spent the day with us, our kids, and our grandkids. On our way home, some of us stopped by to see the couple’s retirement home and we ate pizza, laughed, and enjoyed visiting together.

Still, as we left, there was a vague sense that we might be hugging goodbye.

Notes went back and forth and we learned the cousin’s health was deteriorating. On Christmas day, our family gathered around the speakerphone and chatted just a few minutes as he was pretty weak. It was unspoken, but we all knew we were saying “goodbye” for real.

Yesterday morning, the call came—the cousin was gone. There are many memories that were made over the years, and we find they are bittersweet. We’ll miss you Gary!