Death 1999
Barbara
In 1994, three families moved into the house next door to my tiny apartment complex. (After they got settled and found jobs two of the families moved into
apartments in my tiny complex.) Barbara, her hubs, her three grown sons, and the oldest son's wife and four children, one of which was Nico (they were of
mixed blood Cherokee); and then there was Joyce, her son, his wife, and their little girl (Jewish-Latino). Barbara's and Joyce's family was not blood kin, but
don't try to tell them that. Barbara and Joyce went way back and they were like sisters. All the children in the family call both of them grandmother.
This is what kind of human being they are: I was never their friend, they adopted me into their family...I was their sister, their aunt...they were always there
for me and I was always there for them. After my beloved tuxedo cat Blueberry died in 1996 and I adopted two litter sisters, Barbara sent them cat stockings.
And during Barbara's and Nico's wake I brought the children into my home over night.
And boy howdy did we have fun during those years, some rocking block parties, holiday dinners, watching movies--every time I dropped in to see one of them
they automatically turned on their TV's CC so I could read the subtitles.
In 1998 Barbara was diagnosed with lung cancer. I don't remember what stage, but they were able to operate, taking one lung. I remember going over one day
after she was recovering and she was taking oxygen and smoking. Every time I read on this forum where someone says their cancer victim family member
didn't want to die craving a cigarette, I think of Barbara.
Time sped and Barbara got worse. She started having back pain and it was found that the cancer had spread to her spine. Soon she was flat on her back in bed,
paralyzed. Then it hit her brain and she went into a coma, never to wake again. On June 26, 1999, she passed. I remember gazing down at her shrunken body
dressed in her rawhide Cherokee dress...
Two or three nights after the funeral I dreamed about Barbara. I was standing beneath a tree on a riverbank and she walked up to me and said "Cindy, tell
my family I'm ok." And I did. I believe Barbara came to me in that dream. Her married son said "Cindy, if anyone else told me that I'd laugh my ass off, but
I believe you."
Nico
Nico was the second to oldest in a family of two boys and two girls. He was an angelic blond, blue-eyed 9 y/o when he died almost exactly one month past his
last birthday. He died during Christmas week 1999.
Nico was all boy, who was junior wrestler in for his school and he loved nothing much more than shooting hoops with his dad and uncles. He loved all three of
his siblings and you better not bully them, let me tell ya. I was outside one day and saw one of his toddler cousins running toward the road, started to go after
her, but Nico beat me, scooped up that little gal and took her home.
I will never forget the day he died and the compassion of strangers that followed his death. Just before 5pm he ran across the street, up the bank, across the
two railroad tracks, down that bank, across the road, and into a mom and pop store to buy a trading card that he had had his eye on for a long time.
He was so excited about that card, he ran out of the store, back across the street, back up that bank, around a stopped west bound train...and ran head long
into the train moving eastward. He was so excited, he just didn't think to look, didn't hear it, and it sent him sprawling down that bank, dead instantly.
I had walked to town just before it happened. I saw the stopped train, and of course I looked before I crossed that other track, because I am deaf and I have
to be very careful about such things and because I have lived near tracks most of my life and have a healthy caution of trains. I was sitting on a park bench
downtown when I looked up and saw a helicopter in the sky. I thought it was the police and they were looking for a bailer and I decided I had better get my
butt home, you know.
As I crossed the tracks, I saw people lining the avenue. I was like OMG WTF? Then I saw mama headed up the sidewalk toward me as fast as she could get it.
She grabbed me, pulled her face away, and said "Cindy Honey! I thought it was you!" I go "What happened." And she said "Nico is dead." I fell out of her
arms and against a big old giant oak tree.
The whole town, including the police and media, threw their arms around this family and would not let go. There was a front page article about Nico every day
that week. There was food food food; someone hired a cleaning crew to clean Nico's house; shopkeepers downtown sent expensive gifts for the surviving
children for Christmas.
One magical moment in time: Downtown Buford is an art colony, with galeries, art lessons to be had, etc. For sometime one artist had been painting a series
of angel painting. At the very moment Nico died he had just completed the last one. It was of a angel welcoming a blond boy into Heaven. The artist broke the
series and gave that one to Nico's parents. It hangs on their wall to this day. I have seen it. It is without a doubt Nico.
In 1994, three families moved into the house next door to my tiny apartment complex. (After they got settled and found jobs two of the families moved into
apartments in my tiny complex.) Barbara, her hubs, her three grown sons, and the oldest son's wife and four children, one of which was Nico (they were of
mixed blood Cherokee); and then there was Joyce, her son, his wife, and their little girl (Jewish-Latino). Barbara's and Joyce's family was not blood kin, but
don't try to tell them that. Barbara and Joyce went way back and they were like sisters. All the children in the family call both of them grandmother.
This is what kind of human being they are: I was never their friend, they adopted me into their family...I was their sister, their aunt...they were always there
for me and I was always there for them. After my beloved tuxedo cat Blueberry died in 1996 and I adopted two litter sisters, Barbara sent them cat stockings.
And during Barbara's and Nico's wake I brought the children into my home over night.
And boy howdy did we have fun during those years, some rocking block parties, holiday dinners, watching movies--every time I dropped in to see one of them
they automatically turned on their TV's CC so I could read the subtitles.
In 1998 Barbara was diagnosed with lung cancer. I don't remember what stage, but they were able to operate, taking one lung. I remember going over one day
after she was recovering and she was taking oxygen and smoking. Every time I read on this forum where someone says their cancer victim family member
didn't want to die craving a cigarette, I think of Barbara.
Time sped and Barbara got worse. She started having back pain and it was found that the cancer had spread to her spine. Soon she was flat on her back in bed,
paralyzed. Then it hit her brain and she went into a coma, never to wake again. On June 26, 1999, she passed. I remember gazing down at her shrunken body
dressed in her rawhide Cherokee dress...
Two or three nights after the funeral I dreamed about Barbara. I was standing beneath a tree on a riverbank and she walked up to me and said "Cindy, tell
my family I'm ok." And I did. I believe Barbara came to me in that dream. Her married son said "Cindy, if anyone else told me that I'd laugh my ass off, but
I believe you."
Nico
Nico was the second to oldest in a family of two boys and two girls. He was an angelic blond, blue-eyed 9 y/o when he died almost exactly one month past his
last birthday. He died during Christmas week 1999.
Nico was all boy, who was junior wrestler in for his school and he loved nothing much more than shooting hoops with his dad and uncles. He loved all three of
his siblings and you better not bully them, let me tell ya. I was outside one day and saw one of his toddler cousins running toward the road, started to go after
her, but Nico beat me, scooped up that little gal and took her home.
I will never forget the day he died and the compassion of strangers that followed his death. Just before 5pm he ran across the street, up the bank, across the
two railroad tracks, down that bank, across the road, and into a mom and pop store to buy a trading card that he had had his eye on for a long time.
He was so excited about that card, he ran out of the store, back across the street, back up that bank, around a stopped west bound train...and ran head long
into the train moving eastward. He was so excited, he just didn't think to look, didn't hear it, and it sent him sprawling down that bank, dead instantly.
I had walked to town just before it happened. I saw the stopped train, and of course I looked before I crossed that other track, because I am deaf and I have
to be very careful about such things and because I have lived near tracks most of my life and have a healthy caution of trains. I was sitting on a park bench
downtown when I looked up and saw a helicopter in the sky. I thought it was the police and they were looking for a bailer and I decided I had better get my
butt home, you know.
As I crossed the tracks, I saw people lining the avenue. I was like OMG WTF? Then I saw mama headed up the sidewalk toward me as fast as she could get it.
She grabbed me, pulled her face away, and said "Cindy Honey! I thought it was you!" I go "What happened." And she said "Nico is dead." I fell out of her
arms and against a big old giant oak tree.
The whole town, including the police and media, threw their arms around this family and would not let go. There was a front page article about Nico every day
that week. There was food food food; someone hired a cleaning crew to clean Nico's house; shopkeepers downtown sent expensive gifts for the surviving
children for Christmas.
One magical moment in time: Downtown Buford is an art colony, with galeries, art lessons to be had, etc. For sometime one artist had been painting a series
of angel painting. At the very moment Nico died he had just completed the last one. It was of a angel welcoming a blond boy into Heaven. The artist broke the
series and gave that one to Nico's parents. It hangs on their wall to this day. I have seen it. It is without a doubt Nico.
