My Cousin Deb

Today, my cousin Deb would have celebrated her 57th birthday.

Unfortunately, she left us last October, during a brief stay in hospital.

Deb was the first of two daughters born to Joan, my mother's younger sister.

My mother and her sister Joan were as tight as thieves; sisters and best friends.

Consequently, as children, we spent a great deal of time back and forth between each other's homes.

Although she was three years younger than I, my cousin Deb and I drifted together, I think possibly because of our similarities as we both felt somewhat like the 'black sheeps' of our families, if you will.

Just didn't quite fit in.

So we stuck together.

And we told each other our troubles and our "secrets," such as they were for kids.

As children, that's what we did.

Once we hit our teen years, there wasn't the same amount of visiting back and forth and we developed different groups of friends and went our separate ways.

She moved out west for many years and we were never in touch through that period of our lives.

Eventually she moved back to this region with Richard and they built a cute little home and tucked themselves away in the woods on a beautiful piece of property.

It was only when her mother died in 2001 that we got in touch again and found out that we both lived in the woods, west of Ottawa, each having found life partners who had similar outdoor interests -- and we both loved the isolation of our respective living environments!

She was delighted when John and I drove to their place to visit and we met Richard and she and I were able to reconnect properly.

Deb Simpson, Richard Brown, and Bonnie Fowler    Oct 2001

Cousin Deb would visit me and we would have wonderful strolls down memory lane. She had great fun the time she visited during hunt week and it happened to be on a Saturday when the 'hootenanny' is held.

She would phone frequently and she always wanted to relive our childhood. We talked about how tight our mothers were and the fun we used to have on week-ends when all the cousins gathered for family picnics (there were many aunts and uncles and cousins ...).  And she brought up memories from our childhood that I hadn't thought of since our childhoold!

Often, John would take her calls, and once Richard became ill with cancer, John was able to offer her many hours of  counsel. (John had undergone treatment for prostate cancer a few years earlier, and she had numerous questions.)

She nursed Richard at home until the end because that's what he wanted, and it took a toll on her.

Cousin Deb missed Richard terribly; they had been alone together in their cabin for over twenty-five years.

And now she was there alone, without him.

She tried her damndest to move on but it just wasn't to be.

Her many health problems just worsened once her motivating will was gone.

And now, I no longer come home to a message on my telephone, "Hi Bonnie and John, it's just Cousin Deb calling to say hi.  Love you."

I held Deb's hand as she passed away.

She had been on life support until someone could get to the hospital to be with her as she passed.

Deb was taken to hospital the night before I left for Nova Scotia.

I had spoken with her on the telephone that evening, and she was not well. She promised to seek medical attention and I told her I would follow up from Nova Scotia.

Well, we know what happened to me while I was there.

On my return from Nova Scotia, I had several messages telling me that Deb was in hospital and had been since the very night I had last spoken with her.

I visited her in hospital as quickly as I could and she was her usual feisty self:  issuing orders and straining to see what was happening out in the hall. Deb worked in the nursing profession so she had to know what all the staff was up to.

The next time I saw her, she wasn't doing well at all. She had been moved to the Critical Care unit and it didn't look promising.

By the next morning, she had taken a turn for the worse and the next of kin question was asked.

Attempts to find her two surviving siblings were unsuccessful so I became the next of kin.

Which is exactly the way she wanted it.

That's why we had been on the phone the night before I left for Nova Scotia -- she wanted to make sure I had the name and phone number of the lawyer who had prepared her will, which named my sister and me as Executrixes.  (Did she know then how very ill she really was?)

When I spoke with the Doctor, it wasn't clear whether we could get there before Deb would decide to just go.  But we did get there on time.

And I held her hand, and stroked her hair.

And told her it was OK to go, that Richard was waiting for her.

I believe she had actually really left some time mid-morning that day, but the hospital staff needs to know, for their own benefit, that people don't die alone. So they had done everything they could to keep her 'alive' until we could be with her for her final journey. And I love them for caring so deeply for the strangers who pass through the revolving doors of the Critical Care Unit.

Cousin Deb left this earth, officially, at 5:55pm on October 14, 2009.

On November 1, 2009, Deb and Richard were put to rest, finally.  It wasn't a very large send-off; just a small, intimate gathering at what had been their home.  Present to say good-bye were a handful of her neighbour friends, and the few family members who knew she had passed: John, me, my sister Wendy, and one of our cousins (Deb's god-daughter) with her husband.  Cousin Deb actually hadn't wanted to have any service.

Later, her brother-in-law took their ashes (Deb had saved Richard's ashes for just this occasion) up to a favourite spot on their property where they liked to go for solitude.

So they can be alone together, again.

(Following is the obituary that never appeared in a newspaper. But I really wanted to place it, so here it is.)

SIMPSON, Debra Joan Grace, of Burnstown, ON, partner of the late Richard Brown (1947-2007), died peacefully at the General Campus of the Ottawa Hospital on 14 October 2009, with her cousin by her side, as she wanted. Born in Ottawa 27 March 1953, Deb was predeceased by parents, Robert Thomas Simpson (1925-1993) and Joan Grace Sharpe (1929-2001) and brothers Clifford Duncan George Simpson  (1950-2002) and Robert Thomas Simpson (1955-1993). Survived by siblings Norman Clarence Patrick Simpson and Linda Anne Simpson, Aunt Lilian Sharpe (Frederick, 1931-1994), several nephews, nieces, and numerous cousins.  At Deb’s request, cremation has occurred and her ashes have joined Richard’s in a private location.