Today I visited with my 'Blakeney Cousins'. On most occasions, that would be reason for joy, for eager anticipation of the stories, laughter, and love, even of the Carolina Clemson banter we would share. Not today. Although I treasure every moment spent with these girls, today is quite different. Today is surreal. Today is heartbreaking. Today, there just aren't words.
We've tred this path before, have my cousins and I. We have plowed this ground together. It never gets easier. I think of how oddly often such visits and conversations as these are accompanied by caramel cake. Perhaps not so odd, for Pageland folks know that many of the Blakeneys love caramel cake. So, when the hardest, most trying of times hit, caramel cake is frequently part of the equation....part of the talking through....part of the tears.....part of the nervous laughter....part of the memories.....part of the healing....part of the love.
My cousins are ALWAYS there for me. I want to be there for them. We are a generation of all girls...only girls.....five girls......five Daddy's Girls of two brothers. We face an unbearable loss. We aren't ready.
Too many of these most painful of losses for my cousins, my sisters, and me have come at Christmas. The holidays will never be quite as they once were. Years later there is still the widower husband who cannot bear to decorate a Christmas tree. Years forward, there will be the wife of more than sixty years who searches for the simple joys of Christmases past, the daughters who find it so painful to remember yet so impossible to forget, and the cousins who wish to make it better but can't.
Uncle Check was (and is) my 'Uncle' crush,' you know....in the vein of a girl crush or boy crush or star crush. Handsome, impeccably well-dressed, wonderful laugh, great smile, athletic, special. Even this week as I visited, still that almost chiseled face; that one forehead curl. Love..... my dad's only brother.....my dear uncle. His stories over the years of panning for semi-precious stones and of elderberry wine, of travels and memories delighted and intrigued me. To him, I was always "Neesie;" never ever 'Denise.' Somehow, I always found such peace and happiness in that.
So often when spoken words aren't there for me, I turn to the private time with my keyboard and my blog, to say what it hurts too much to say out loud......yet another good-bye. We understand if you have to leave us, My Sweet Uncle, and it is okay. But, we so wish you didn't have to go. Family will never be quite the same. Christmas will never be quite the same. I will never be the same.
I left my visit with my cousins. I've cried 'til there are no more tears. I shudder every time the phone rings, for I know a call is coming.
Three cousins will try to comfort two cousins. Three without their mom, two without their dad.....five girls will find a way to share the hard conversations and maybe some caramel cake this Christmas.
PS: On my last visit, I wondered if my uncle knew who I was. Just as I determined he probably did not, Uncle Check grinned at me and mumbled that I needed a good spanking. I had to smile. Clearly, he knew exactly which of his nieces was visiting that day.
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