My Aunt Debby Cooney this summer. (Photo by her brother Rich Coursey)

My aunt passed away yesterday. After having a diagnostic test come back ok this summer, she suddenly faced a stage four cancer diagnosis in mid-September. Getting third-hand information from my mom, it sounded like they were still trying to understand what was happening medically and then she took a sudden turn and was gone.

This summer she had organized a family reunion and I’m so glad I was able to make it to that. She really enjoyed bringing everyone together. Another relative this time knit together a bunch of old family films, where my aunt popped up from time to time as a toddler. I didn’t get to see her again after that, even though I could have gone home for Thanksgiving. My mom told me it was probably ok to wait till early December (I had some deadlines I was stressing about), so I did. Just before my grandma died, my aunt made a sudden appearance at her mom’s house, five hours away from where she lived. She said she just had a feeling and so made the trip. It was surprising, and a bit unnerving, to see her so unexpectedly, but it turned out she was right to come. Her mom had a stroke shortly after and died. I have really tried to live that lesson, to make the trip when you can, but clearly have not learned it well enough. I will try even harder in the future to stick to it.

We spent every summer at my aunt’s house in Harrisburg, for at least a week. Lazing around in their air conditioning (fancy!) and cable TV with a different assortment of stations than ours. In recent years, she’d taken to sending cards for nearly every holiday. I didn’t even always remember to acknowledge them with a text. Probably cause her kids are a bit younger than me, she also got pretty into texting, complete with emoji. I could take a week to reply. I dunno, I just didn’t get why she was saying hi in all these ways! And it’s only now it’s dawning on me: you should have asked.

My aunt took so much delight in asking. I guess in acquiring things by many means (yes, shopping), but also cultivating friendships and information and recipes and ideas. She asked me about all sorts of things in my life. When I converted to Judaism, she was supportive. She came to the service commemorating my conversion. She asked me about Judaism, even if her questions were a little weird like what do Jews think of Jesus. (…they don’t, really, which is kind of the idea?) But when she got really into Catholicism, I never asked her much about it and honestly found it a mix of silly and worrying. It wouldn’t have cost me anything to ask her what she enjoyed about it or how her Bible study was going. But I didn’t.

This is also a lesson I should have learned sooner. My aunt lived a couple hours from where I went to college and would come see me from time to time just to get dinner or hang out. She’d ask me about my life. Just pleasant, nice. Nothing heavy or that I thought much of. But then it would get back to my mom that my aunt already knew about some update in my love life. My mom would be so offended I told my aunt before her, but I wasn’t playing favorites, it’s just that my aunt had asked a question and I answered! At the time, I just thought it was funny sibling rivalry stuff, but clearly could have done a bit of self reflection about the importance of asking questions, too.

I don’t really know what to make of all this. I hope it reminds me to be a little more curious about people and generous with my attention. I often think, “Why would people want to hear from me anyhow?” and don’t think there’s much worth sharing, but I guess a question can be its own offering. I know my aunt always had my back, even if I was sometimes confused by how she interpreted my interests. But I guess that is also its own lesson—she could only get so far asking on her own, I had to open up more and learn about about her and her interests for us to really connect. An embarrassing case in point: when I was a teenager, she gave me a Carole King CD for Christmas. All I could think of the CD was the big SALE sticker on it from Media Play, muttering to myself about how could she think so little of me to just get me some bargain bin crap. I don’t think I said that out loud, but I was also not effusive (or conversant) in my thank you. Come to find out, it was one of her favorite albums and I was a huge, self centered asshole who could only see everything in the worst possible light. (Some things never change.) Probably about 20 years later, I had by then realized I had been a jerk and wanted to try to reciprocate sharing music, so I invited her to an Aimee Mann and Ted Leo show in Harrisburg because I love them both (heh) and thought she’d enjoy it too. It was a fun show, but I can’t say we came away with some new profound understanding or resolution (I do think she understood I was being a regular teenager).

Who knows, maybe now is the time to finally, actually listen to Tapestry.

• Header image: My Aunt Debby Cooney this summer. (Photo by her brother Rich Coursey)

Last modified on December 3, 2024