My mother was one of 5 siblings -- 4 girls and a boy. Morris was the oldest, named, like many children of first generation Eastern European immigrants, like Old English royalty, to sound "more American." After Uncle Marty came Dorothy, Selma (Sunny, my mother), Lorraine, and finally Florence, called Giggles since she cried all the time. Classic ironic Jewish humor...
My aunts and uncle produced a total of 16 kids, born from during WW II until 1961 -- classic Baby Boomers. I happen to be the youngest first cousin. The oldest was Arline, who died several years back. Since her passing, though, all of my generation of cousins and spouses have stayed around. Until Tuesday.
My cousin Barry's wife Jackie died, after several years of suffering from early onset Alzheimer's. I think she was diagnosed when she was in her early 60s. She died at 67. My brother in law Dennis shared the news yesterday, and I called Barry from outside of D1's house -- the baby was napping, and I didn't want to wake him.
Jackie was the most "exotic" of my cousins' spouses. She was English! She and Barry met in their early 20s, and have been together since. This very lovely Blackpool WASP fit seamlessly into the Jewish American family. Everyone loved her -- her wonderful accent, her warmth, her sense of humor. And Barry is the most New York of all my cousins -- he has been in the furniture business, and has an Bridge and Tunnel accent that would qualify him for a role of "The Sopranos." He and Jackie had one son, later in life, and Woody is a fine young man -- just married last February.
We were invited to his wedding, up in Port St. Lucie, and begged off. It was the weekend following D2 and Jonathan's affair, and Wifey correctly predicted that I would end up annoyed at driving all the way up there to see cousins I keep in touch with on FaceBook anyway -- sufficient for me.
Apparently Jackie was there, but not there, as my Florida sister reported. I'm actually glad I didn't see her that way -- I'll remember her in her much more vital form -- good naturedly making fun of herself and us -- a very sweet, witty, and happy lady.
Barry sounded philosophical on the phone. He was advised to put Jackie in a nursing home months ago, and he resisted. He now knew how lucky was his choice -- with the pandemic, he wouldn't have been able to see her those final months. He was thankful for the 46 years of "a magnificent wife." It's funny -- to me my parents were married FOREVER, and yet my Dad died before they reached their 40th anniversary.
My cousins and I aren't close at all. There was no dramatic schism -- just the typical focus on the nuclear family of modern American life several generations in.
Barry had no idea I was a grandfather. He said he hoped to join that club, too. I hope it happens for him.
My favorite cousins are Mike and Jeff -- Lorraine's sons. Michael is 5 years older than I am, and I think Jeff is nearing, or at, 70. Michael and his wife Gail got very religious, and live in Monsey, NY, and last spoke well over 10 years ago.
For a time, Wifey and I did keep in touch with Jeff and Lynn -- they live in Ft. Lauderdale, in an ocean front condo. They've visited us here, and we there, but again -- the years have seen us drift apart.
Last night I decided to call Jeff, and realized I didn't have his number. So I FaceTimed messaged his son in law Josh, a cardiologist in North Broward. Josh responded right away with his suegro's number, and I left Jeff a message. I hope he calls -- I want to compare life notes with him, and maybe even plan to meet after the plague eases.
Barry, too. He's a big Heat and Marlins fan, and comes with Woody to games, but somehow we never get to meet. Maybe that will change.
In the mean time, may Jackie rest in peace. She had a fine life, although not a very long one.
My Florida sister is the oldest of we surviving 15 first cousins. May there not be another loss for another many, many years.
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