A dark week

And here it is, the inevitable and unfortunate follow-up to Tuesday's entry.
My phone rang at 5:45 this morning and I saw it was my cousin. I knew right away what the call was about. My cousin Jennifer had passed away. Admittedly, this wasn't a shock like my friend Ed. As I mentioned the other day, this had been a long battle that took it's toll on her. From talking to my cousins, there seems to be a sense of relief with Jenn's passing that she is no longer suffering.
I can't claim to have been terribly close with Jenn. Like many extended families, we pretty much had a "holidays and special occasions" relationship. Nevertheless, I loved her dearly, and she always made me feel loved by always greeting me with a big smile and hug and seeming so happy to see me.
Having such an infrequent relationship, plus the fact that when the families did get together I tended to understandably socialize more with her brothers, I sadly don't have a surplus of memories with Jenn. But I did know her well enough to know that she was a super sweet girl with a huge heart, and everyone that became a part of her life loved her.
I wish I could somehow share and ease the pain that her immediate family is going through. Having no siblings or kids, I can't even pretend to know what her parents or brothers are feeling right now. I can only imagine that it's a magnified version of the emptiness I felt when I lost my mom, but it's not the same. Jenn was only 46.
And then there's Jenn's own family; her husband Ben (who just lost his wife on his birthday, by the way), and their two beautiful daughters, Sophie and Julia. I can't even fathom their emotion right now. I've heard that kids process and deal with death better than adults do. I don't know if that's true, but I hope it is. Ben and his girls are going to need each other's strength more than ever now.
The one thing I know about the family is that they have always been emotionally strong, so I am confident that they will get through this (as they have been already during Jenn's struggle). It just saddens me that they even have to. 😢

A dark day

This has been a terrible week.
I have been terribly saddened and my heart has been breaking this past week for family members, and dear friends that I consider family.
First, I received word about a week ago that my young cousin Jennifer, who has been battling breast cancer for 6 years, was brought into hospice care. We knew it was inevitable, but it is a reality that we hoped we'd never face. While she is my cousin and I love her dearly, I can only imagine what her immediate family is going through. A husband, two young girls, two older brothers, a dad, and a mom with whom her relationship has always been as tight as a mother/daughter relationship could possibly be. She has been by Jenn's side more often than not during this long battle. Now she has to say goodbye to her baby. How can any parent be expected to do that?
As if that news wasn't bad enough, three days later I found out that my friend Ed Cook had two strokes. After a series of tests it turned out that he had end stage cancer. Within days he was put in hospice care and he passed away very early Tuesday morning. He would have turned 62 this Saturday. I still can't believe how fast that happened. I can't believe he's gone. I'm really gonna miss the big lug. He was a big softy with a gruff exterior (think real life Ralph Kramden). He loved to act curmudgeonly around his family, but anyone that knew him knew that it was a facade. I spent a lot of years being very close to the Cook family, to the point where I did and still do consider them family. He used to always say that one day he was just going to disappear where no one would find him. For the twenty years I knew him he was saying that. He wasn't going anywhere. His family needed him, and he needed them. He loved Donna, his wife of 38 years, and while he might form a look of mock-disgust on his face to anyone who made that claim, he never denied it. I always said they were made for each other.
He used to jokingly say that he hated kids (usually when they were being annoying and loud), but there was no hiding that he truly loved his. On Father's Day on facebook he would post pictures of his kids as his "pride and joy" and the reason he celebrates the day.
He and his daughter Kara tended to lock horns, mainly because she is, as Donna would say, "picked right out of his ass," but I know from conversations we've had that he loved her and was proud of the woman she has become.
He had a good relationship with his son Sean. From my perspective, Sean idolized his father, and from little league, to drumming, to bowling, to learning to cook, to growing into a responsible man and then becoming a father, Ed was indeed extremely proud of Sean.
Then Olivia, his granddaughter, came along, and it was over, Johnny. The curmudgeon that was going to go out for the proverbial pack of cigarettes, the guy who "hates" kids, all gone. His profile picture, his background picture...all about Olivia. I saw him several months ago in Shop Rite of Rockaway (last time I saw him, in fact), and he was all about Olivia, and how he was looking forward to moving out to Spokane and having his family all together again. I'm actually kind of glad that the last time I saw him he had a positive outlook on life. Though in a way it makes this turn of events all the more sad.
He always lived up to his last name. That is to say that he was a damn good cook (and he'd be the first to tell you that). I'll always think of him when I make chili, which he inspired me to learn to do.
He was a good cook and a good Cook. I really am going to miss him. It truly is a dark day.
Rest in peace, my friend.

To all my family and friends involved in these two sorrowful events, I am so sorry you all have to go through this. My heart is breaking and my thoughts and love go out to all of you.