Casey became my aunt the moment that Ruth and I said “I do”. I’d met her several months before at the Van Bruggen family gathering during the Christmas season of 1970. She was the youngest sister of Ruth’s father’s family and the only one without a husband and children. I liked her the moment we met, and I knew she liked me. I guess she figured that anyone that “Ruthie” loved was worthy of hers as well.
Ruth and I attended the Van Bruggen family gatherings while her parents were alive, but neglected most after they passed. Moving away from Kalamazoo, and raising a family of our own, interrupted that.
Casey was the constant in my memories of Ruth’s extended family. She was always the same whenever we met. You always knew what she thought and why she thought it. She was playful and loving. She loved her cats and was an active member of her church.
Casey was a career nurse. She helped bring over a thousand babies into the world. When Ruth became pregnant with David, we attended “birthing” classes. Casey was the instructor. She taught us all about the baby delivering process. I learned how to “coach” Ruth through the delivery. I learned breathing techniques, what an APGAR score was, what to take to the hospital, how to prepare our home for a newborn, the wonders of natural child birth, the pros and cons of breast feeding, and all of the stages of the entire birthing process.
The day that David was born, Casey was no where to be found. It was Easter Sunday and her day off. We followed all of the directions that she had provided during training just as she prescribed. Everything went as outlined until the big push began. All of the instructions went out the window. I tried to be a breathing coach, but Ruth was having none of that. Natural child birth was abandoned as the stress of David’s delivery increased. In the end, a beautiful baby boy emerged with an APGAR score of 8.
After Ruth and David came home, Casey visited us every day for several days in a row. She wanted to be sure that we were off to a solid start. She was a wonderful companion who helped relieve our darkest fears. With her as a guide, we didn’t break David.
A few weeks after his birth, Ruth and I decided to venture out and left David at home with a babysitter. We brought in Casey. I don’t remember where we went or how long we were gone, but I remember our return like it was yesterday. We entered the living room and Casey was on the couch, fast asleep. We had to wake her up. David survived despite her inattention.
Fourteen years, three hundred and sixty-three days ago today, Casey represented the Van Bruggen family at David’s wedding. Both of Ruth’s parents passed over twenty years prior so Casey was the natural choice for that designation. She joined Ruth and me, and my mother, as we celebrated what would eventually become the creation of a fourth generation of Van Bruggens and Tebos. Now we’re down to three.
Casey passed away on July 20th. We buried her last week-end. It was the third in a series of three such events that we attended over the past year. Ruth and I have had a difficult time saying good-bye to people we love.
Ruth took the opportunity to say farewell to Casey as part of her funeral service. She wrote a remembrance of her aunt which was read with several others. She wrote…
Those who know me well are aware that I’d rather take a country road than an interstate any time I travel. I owe that particular behavior to my Aunt Casey. Throughout my childhood she would appear at our kitchen door on a Saturday morning and ask “Do you want to go “wandering”? With no GPS, or road maps, we would take to the open road and wind our way down country roads that usually led us to the shores of Lake Michigan or Russ’s Restaurant in Holland. Many times I thought we were lost, but she always assured me that we weren’t lost….. we’re just “wandering”. I still “wander” today thanks to the example of her adventurous spirit.
I have one last request of Casey. If there is a heaven, I know that you are wandering around looking for friends and family who have passed before. If you run into my friend, Jim, or cousin, Gene, tell them I said hello and miss them every day.