Cousin Curt

I received word this morning of the death of my cousin, Curt Matheny.  The news was not unexpected, for he had been very ill for quite some time, but no matter how prepared we think we are, the loss of a loved one still hurts.

I had known Curt my entire life.  He was just a few years older than me, and we played together as children.  I remember as a small girl, playing in his playhouse in the woods on his parent's farm in northern Minnesota.  I think his father must have built it for him out of pine slabs, and there was furniture in it that was made from logs.  I always thought how lucky he was to have such a wonderful place to play.

We stayed in touch in our younger years through letters, and I would see him on our family trips to visit relatives, at family reunions and more often when I lived in northern Minnesota for a number of years, for it was his at his family home that I liked to spend time.  Curt had a talent for woodworking and made some beautiful cabinets and furniture.  He made his living this way for many years.

I guess I am feeling a bit melancholy today.  Also a bit nostalgic.  It seems that so many of my father's family have gone on to their reward and there are so few of us left now.  I understand that this is the natural order of things, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Good-bye Curt.  I treasure the memories.