Cousin Time

My favourite cousin is Debbie, and she recently had some absolutely devastating news. I was the first person she contacted, and to my dismay the timing was almost as bad as it could be. She messaged me and said, “Call me as soon as you get this.” The only thing good about the moment was that by some miracle, I had cell service and was able to have a whole conversation. It was halfway through my two-day Belle Brigade relay race and I was up in the mountains around Vernonia, Oregon (one of the locations where the reality TV program “Axe Men” was shot) on a dirt road at one of our relay exchange stations in a gravel quarry. Everyone on the team had been struggling with cell service for hours and it sort of depended on which side of the mountain we were on, and the amount of tree cover, and whether we were driving at the time. Any service we did receive was guaranteed to go out on the next curve in the gravel road.

But the call went through. She was in shock and soon I was too – the news was gut-wrenching. My whole team sort of froze as they heard my side of the phone call. My cousin Dan, Debbie’s beloved twin brother, had ended his life. No one was expecting it. Debbie agonized over the knowledge that Dan had messaged her in the final hours, but she did not see his messages until it was too late. “What if? What if?” was clearly in her thoughts, though she didn’t say so.

I was the captain of the team and my leg to race was coming up next. We had just dropped off our latest racer and now we needed to drive to the next exchange point and put me into place to take over. But Debbie really needed me and I needed her. My team – bless them all – were waiting to follow my lead. No one looked at their watch or gave any hints, and all of them were clearly distraught in solidarity with me. What a great bunch of people.

Debbie encouraged me to go, and I said goodbye. But damn. That was the worst thing I think I’ve ever had to do to someone who called me in need. Eighteen hours later, after the race was over and I was home and showered and rested, I bought plane tickets to Nevada to go stay with my cousin.

The trip to visit Debbie happened the last week of September. It had taken me a long time to get over there, but we had so much stuff already scheduled. I know the grieving process will be a long time though, so I had faith that Debbie, her husband Mike, and the twin’s mom, my Aunt Bunny, would all appreciate the love I could give, no matter when I showed up.

I flew into Reno, and my cousin picked me up. We have an ability to talk instantly, no matter what’s going on or how long it’s been since we saw each other. We have a lot of trust, and that allows us to talk about hard things. Debbie explained her process in moving through her understanding of Dan’s last days and the gifts of additional perspective from his kids and his wife. They told her how much they loved him, what a good dad and husband he was up until the last moment, and how they understood that he suffered from a debilitating depression that they fully accepted as a health problem that took him as a victim. No blame was found, only sadness.

He had spent a year preparing, going through his personal business, tying up loose ends, visiting people important to him, showering those he loved with his generosity and his great sense of humor. Debbie told me (I did not know this), that people who die from suicide often put this much careful effort into ending their lives. It helped her understand that, had she been there to receive his text messages that night, she never could have changed his heart. Debbie’s husband Mike also said to her that Dan made his own decision as a man doing the best he could with his life, and she needed to respect his decision. These conversations helped her, and when she shared all this with me, it helped me too.

Daniel was a military veteran, and sadly, is among many American veterans who have taken their own lives by suicide.

Anyway, the family made me feel absolutely at home, and took great care to cater to me, even though they were suffering more than I was. They set me up with a room of my own and fed me and laughed with me and shared their stories and asked about our lives and took me on multiple drives around their favourite places in Nevada near their home.

The first day I was there, they took me to the Genoa Candy Dance, a two-day craft festival in Genoa, Nevada. This tradition began in 1919 when some town ladies put on a dance to earn money to put some new fangled electric lights in the city streets. They made candies to hand out to couples as an incentive to get a good turn out. They earned enough, and kept the annual dance in order to have the money to pay for the electric bill and make necessary repairs. The arts & crafts fair was added in the 1970s. It is a very popular event, if one looks only at the numbers of people on the streets of Genoa.

On the next day, we went for a long drive through the mountains into the state of California, to one of their favourite lakes and camping spots. Mike told some stories about bringing his Boy Scout troop out to Camp Silverado for many years. The memories brought some smiles to their faces and that eased my heart.

On another day, they took me to another great destination for the first time: Virginia City. It’s a way to step back into time, to an Old Spaghetti Western town, complete with dirt roads and wooden boardwalks and boom-and-bust mining history. The place is absolutely scenic. I was again regaled with stories from Mike’s colourful past, and he talked about driving a school bus in Virginia City in the snow, and how tricky it was to get the bus safely up and down the very steep streets.

There was more time left, so Cousin Debbie and I went on a drive one day around Lake Tahoe. I had visited the cities of South Lake Tahoe and Incline Village, but this was my first time circling the famous lake. The day was gorgeous, and so were the two women in the truck. ;o)

Then I had the opportunity to see who is healing Debbie the most: Sam. I had never met Sam, who is special needs. Debbie is his carer and friend, and has nursed him painstakingly toward good health after he escaped from an abusive home. These two love and trust each other.

It was a good time to visit my Aunt Bunny, too, sister to my father who died in 2021. She is also generous with her time and her talents, and knitted slippers for Pedro and me in time for me to take them home to Oregon. Mike is a crafter and inventor, and built a beautiful personalized lamp engraved with an image of Pedro and me. Debbie showered me in hugs and love and shared herself with me completely.

Though the visit was a long one, all too soon it was time to go. Deb took me to the airport again, but first we stopped to fulfill Pedro’s request.

In the end, I didn’t really feel like I did much. I have a hard time knowing how to care for people. It’s not in my wheel house. But I do know that being there is nearly always the right choice. After I got home, Debbie let me know that the visit meant a lot to her. I’m glad to hear it. I’m still pretty sure Sam is doing more for her than I am. But there is always a place in this world for love among cousins, and the trip did me a lot of good too. I’m glad Debbie and I have each other, in addition to the rest of the people in our lives. ❤