My hero: my cousin Nancy

She never weighed more than 100 pounds, except maybe when she was pregnant.  She was just a little over five feet tall.  She was a wife, a mother, my cousin, and she is my hero.

Nancy and I were both born in 1937 to mothers who were sisters.  From the time we were born - just five months apart - we were close to each other.  Very soon after she was born it was obvious she wasn't thriving.  The doctors determined she was allergic to milk.  As she got older, she developed other allergies.  So many in fact, that you would wonder what she was able to eat.

But in spite of her many allergies, she managed to grow into a healthy child.  A happy, blue-eyed, curly-haired moppet who never complained about her very limited diet.

We would go to birthday parties and there wasn't anything Nancy could eat.  That didn't seem to bother her.  She just sat at the table talking and laughing while the rest of us celebrated with ice cream and cake.

One time when we were playing with our friends, there was a neighborhood bully who thought because Nancy was so little that it would be funny to call her Nanny Goat.  She ignored his name-calling but after he continued to taunt her, she hauled off and gave him a punch to the jaw.  That was the last time the bully (or anyone else) would ever call her any names.

As she grew up, she played every sport, her size didn't stop her from having fun.  As a matter of fact, when she was a high school senior, she applied for a job as lifeguard at the community swimming pool.  Imagine the looks on the faces of the other try-outs when they learned she was also applying for the job.  However, as they watched her swim and saw her exceed at all the other tests, they knew she was completely capable of performing the job.

After college, Nancy met and married the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.  Life wasn't always easy for the couple.  Her husband broke his neck in a freak diving accident and Nancy had to support the family and care for her husband while he recuperated.  Not but a few years later, her husband had a heart attack and once again, Nancy was the family's breadwinner.

Nancy and her husband had always lived in suburban Chicago, but they longed for the open spaces and so, they bought a piece of land in northern Wisconsin.  There was a very small, almost uninhabitable house on the property.  Over a couple summers, they made the house into an attractive house for weekend get aways.

They, and the children, loved being able to spend time in their summer house.  Very soon they decided that Nancy and the children would move permanently to Wisconin and her husband would commute every weekend.  So, with three little children in tow, Nancy moved to Wisconsin

For me, Nancy might as well have moved to the end of the earth!  I couldn't imagine not being near her.  Beside, I thought, what  would she do living miles away from her nearest neighbor and being all alone in a house in the middle of a woods?

But as usual, Nancy along with here now-there-were-four children, not only survived, they thrived.  After a couple of years of commuting, her husband permanently relocated to Wisconsin and together, they tore down the first house and by themselves built their dream home.

I still missed her, but I knew she was happy and I did get to see her fairly often.  When we were together, it was just like it always was - talking, laughing, enjoying each other's company.

And then, I got that terrible letter from her telling me she had cancer and the prognosis was not good.  I thought my heart would break.  How could this happen?  This was the same Nancy who overcame life-threatening allergies as a child, showed people that strength had nothing to do with size, and built a new house and new life for her and her family.

Several months later, in spite of surgeries, chemotherapy, and numerous hospital stays, it was obvious that Nancy had very little time left and she entered hospice.

Even while in hospice, she took it upon herself to "suggest" to some of the staff how they might improve the appearance of her room by simply moving some of the furniture and painting the walls a different color.

Nancy died at home, surrounded by her loved ones.

I'll always love you, Nancy, and I'll never forget you.