The First Cousin to Go

My mother is one of 5 siblings, and she's one of 2 of them still alive. Of her brother and 3 sisters, only she and her youngest sister Florence (82) are still among us. The 5 Goldsmith kids had a combined 16 kids -- my maternal first cousins. I'm the youngest, at 51, and the oldest, Arleen, died at 73 yesterday. Ah, Arleen. What a tough life she led. She was the first of our generation to show effects of the serious mental illness that seems to be our family's birthright (along with good looks, great sense of humor, and, with some small exceptions, intelligence). Arleen married a military guy, and they moved to Arizona, in the late 60s, I think. They had 2 boys, Gavin and Brody, and then Arleen snapped. As the stories trickled down, they involved her taking a garden hose to the inside of her house, to clean away the desert dust, and supposedly wandering naked in the wilderness. I'm not sure how true they were, but they led to her return to NY for a mental hospital, and her husband taking flight, leaving Arleen's parents to care for Gavin and Brody. Arleen's mother Dottie, my mother's favorite sibling, was herself a recovering mental patient. She and my uncle Arthur reached out for help, and the other families took turns caring for the toddler Brody. I was probably 11 at the time, and found it way cool to have a little cute brother move in. And Brody was a charmer -- blonde curly hair, and laughing all the time. I think we kept him with us on LI for about a month, and I was sad when he left. Arleen got herself together, more or less, thanks to the then emerging psychotropic meds. She remarried and moved to the west coast of Florida. Her oldest Gavin went to college and became, I think, a full Colonel in the US Army. Brody moved to Mass and works, I think, for the state government. I haven't seen Arleen in years. The last time was about 12 years ago. My uncle Marty, my Mom's brother, threw a party for himself after a diagnosis of terminal liver cancer. After the diagnosis but before the party, he asked me to refer him to a UM doctor. I called Dr. Barry, and sent him to one of the top liver guy in the US. Dr. Jeffers told Marty he'd die WITH his cancer, not OF it. He was correct -- Marty died several years later of a heart attack. But he had the party, which his brother in law bankrolled, anyway. Arleen looked great. She must have been about 60. Her mother Dottie was a dark haired beauty, and Arleen inherited her Mom's looks. We chatted briefly about life and family, and how we missed getting together with the cousins. We're all scattered about the country, and, in truth, none of us want to make the effort to get together. Even now -- I could travel to Venice, Florida this week for the funeral, but I won't. Friends are the new family for many of us... And so it is. As Wifey pointed out, when things go bad, or great, the first folks I call are my dear friends. My contact with my cousins is the occasional visit, or wedding. My Ds barely know any of my cousins. And their generation is going the same way. My Ds have some contact with a few of Wifey's cousin's kids, since they're close in age and life experience (D1 even fixed up one of Wifey's second cousins with a friend of hers from UF), but that's it. My Ds have 4 first cousins, and haven't spoken to any of them in years. On the positive side, all of us Goldsmith cousins made it to adulthood, with no childhood tragedies. Arleen fought leukemia for 5 years, and apparently the past 2 were miserable. My sister Trudy, turning 68 in a few months, is now the oldest first cousin, so my family provides the age frame bracket around all of us. As I wrote to Arleen's sister Terry, a childless lady living for the past 40 years in Oregon, may Arleen's memory be as a blessing.