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Post Info TOPIC: Lost another cuzzin...


Resident Curmudgeon

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Lost another cuzzin...
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...he was 70 and had been in hospice, out in L.A.--according to my sister. I didn't even know he was sick. doh

Counting the two of us, my father and his six brothers had fourteen kids. Nine boys, five girls. Now it's down to seven and four. no

Our ages range from 65 to 80, so those numbers will be declining at a pretty fast rate in the coming years. cry

Charlie

 



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KCM (Imperial Lizard and Resident Curmudgeon)



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My sympathies. 

hmm

 

I don't know how many cousins I have or how many are still alive, we're not a close family. My father (no, not dad) was dead five years before I heard about it. I didn't shed a tear.

 



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I'm sorry for your loss, Charlie.

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Dee


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Sorry to hear it Charlie.

At our age, we are all on more or less the same journey.

I have oodles of cousins I can't even count that I never met or met only once. I can't even name 99% of them. My father came from a very large family, most stayed in the midwest and elsewhere and we had very little contact with them even when my father was alive. He had good reason.

Only a couple of his siblings located to Washington and we are/were close to those families. Most of their kids, my cousins, have either died, moved away or are estranged. So I am down to 2 cousins I am close to since childhood, and even one of those I don't see often.

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I didn't even know he was sick. He came out fairly late...probably in his fifties. Probably died of either booze or AIDS. He had so many health problems, ever since he was in hiis teens. When my cuzz had one of a number of procedures, a colostomy, my father flew out to California and donated blood for his nephew. Even so, he almost died at sixteen, and became "the man with the bag" (as the Christmas song goes) for the rest of his life.

I was in college at the time...it was in late '65 or early '66. And now he is dead.

He was a pretty nice guy when we were young. When I was 16 and he was 14, he visited some of my cousins in Chicago. Their father got us Cub tickets. Best seats at Wrigley, right over the visiting dugout. Cubs and Dodgers, natch. We got to see Koufax pitch in his prime, and my cuzz was going apeshit...was he excited! He kept trying to get the attention of the players, and kept telling the Dodger pitching coach that he was from L. A. and a Dodger fan. Cubs lost a squeaker in extra-innings, 2-1, I think.

My cuzz got a big thrill out of riding home on the 'L' too...and I remember reading the headlines in the passengers' newspapers...Jackie Kennedy had unexpectedly given birth to her baby. It lived for two days. It's buried next to JFK. So the date of the game...on a gorgeous Chicago late-summer day...must have been 8-7-63.

That day was one of only a few times I ever saw that California cuzz. I visited him out there in '68 while I was hitching around the country, and he made another visit to Chicago when I was around thirty. Last heard from him when my mom died in 2012. Got a letter or an e-mail. Every time I would think of him, I would think of that day at the ballpark in the summer of '63. Strange what things you remember most about somebody.

He had a not-so-wonderful life, all things considered. Got dealt a piss-poor hand, health-wise.
But now he's bought the Big Casino, as Sinatra used to call it. I call it The Iceman.

Thanks for all the good thoughts. Another cousin called me today, from out in Arizona.

She and I talked for a long time. We're Jews. It's what we do.

Charlie





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KCM (Imperial Lizard and Resident Curmudgeon)



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My sister has told me that one of my deceased cousin's younger brothers lives very close to the site of the January 26 helicopter crash.
In fact, the crash took place above the athletic fields behind his son's old junior high school (the son is in college now). Wow!

Charlie





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KCM (Imperial Lizard and Resident Curmudgeon)



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Sorry to hear of your loss Charlie. In the last twelve months I have been to five funerals, two weddings and a christening. Two of the funerals were really sad. A friend's daughter had died of anorexia and the other was for a chap who was barely forty, who had drunk himself to death and ended up being buried at the local Potter's Field.



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My deepest condolences for your loss. I bet your Cousin remembered that afternoon at the baseball game quite fondly too, just by the way you described his enthusiasim and your memory so clear  about that one day.

Take care Charlie,

 

Uni



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Enchanted_Unicorn wrote:

My deepest condolences for your loss. I bet your Cousin remembered that afternoon at the baseball game quite fondly too, just by the way you described his enthusiasim and your memory so clear  about that one day.

Take care Charlie,

 

Uni


 Thanks, Uni. I do wonder if he remembered that ballgame in '63 and being 14 and cheering his head off. Probably not. It was mostly all downhill from there.

He had a pretty lousy life when he got older. My sister filled me in on some more of the details:

He had been ill for awhile and died of HIV after a couple weeks in hospice...a few days after turning 70.  He had had a rough life, to put it mildly..  I recalled that he had been married many years ago and had a son.  What I remembered was that his wife had lupus, and was always sick.  I learned that his son was molested by a neighbor boy at the age of four.  His son was later diagnosed with schizophrenia. My cuzz and his wife split up, and he came out as gay late in his life.  He and his wife never got a divorce, but they weren't in contact and the son had no contact either.  The sad truth is that he probably never should have gotten married in the first place. He was messed up. So was his wife. And his son.

He was pretty sickly for many years and at some point became homeless. He had  some "friends" who used him and preyed on him and would move in whenever his brother, the one who lived near the crash site, found him a place to live,  They'd show up and take his disability stipend, and get him kicked out of the apartment. I knew some of this, but not all of it. My sister filled me in on the rest. How sad. How horrible. I think about it and I just shake my head.
 
My sister said that underneath it all, his relatives and siblings knew what he really was...a gentle, kind guy who was always a caring uncle to his brother's kids. 
 
My uncle (one of my father's kid brothers) was a total asshole, who was also an abusive bastard to his family. He made my late cuzzin sick at an early age, from his father's physical and verbal abuse and emotional torment.(I got the same shit for many years, but I knew it was my old man and not me. I didn't blame myself. I blamed him. And I got pissed instead of turning my anger inward. Which saved me from my cuzzin's awful fate.)
 
He just ate himself up inside, and had ulcers in his teens and then a colostomy because of health issues brought on by stress, and eventually he had mental health issues that lasted for the rest of his life. I'm a sick puppy, who comes from from a large brood of sick Jewish puppies. But I'm also a snarky puppy, too. Maybe that kept me from ending up like my cuzz.
 
It's so kind of you to think kind thoughts, Uni, and I thank you for them. I should remember my cousins when I feel sorry for myself. Some of them got the crappiest ends of the crappiest sticks. Compared to a number of them, I've had it pretty damn good. I need to remember that more...especially when the whining starts.
 
Charlie


-- Edited by KidCharlieMane on Wednesday 19th of February 2020 10:38:58 AM

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 There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats. -- Albert Schweitzer

 
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KCM (Imperial Lizard and Resident Curmudgeon)

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