Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Deanie was an Engineer

The sound of Lego's hitting the floor can bring it all back.

My cousin Deanie had a bucket full of them and when we got together, start of play was always him pouring them out onto the floor and the two of us diving in greedily.

This was back in the days before kits and instruction books, when you'd piece together large, lumpen structures and spend almost as much time explaining what they were as you would building them.

Then we'd run down the basement and play with his train.  He was five.  I was four.  I wanted to marry him when I grew up.

Deanie was killed on his way to school one winter day, hit by a car that was going too fast as he ran, unheeding, into the street.  I lost my best friend and, I think, my place in the extended family.  I never really felt connected to them after that.

But time goes on.  Cousins grow up.  They marry and have children of their own.  And they grow up, too.

Deanie's nephew, David, died this week.  Alan and I will be heading down to Windsor, to offer our love and support, paltry though it may be, to his family, my cousins and Aunties. 

And I will still be missing Deanie.


Jeremy dePots said...

We wish to die leaving our imprints burned into the hearts of others. What would life be if there were no one to remember us, to think of us when we are absent, to keep us alive when we are dead? (R D Laing - The Bird of Paradise)

even though it's painful, it's wonderfully human to remember and still miss those we loved, even a long time ago.

pierre l said...

Apologies for being a bad "follower".

I am very sorry to read about your cousin's death. And also Deanie's nephew.