My cousin died Monday night in Paris after a long and valiant struggle with cancer.
Born September 18, 1964, in Paris, Cousin Muszka (family nickname, I didn't make it up) glowed with life.
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| Muszka (left), at 2 months old, meeting my sister (center) for the first time. Her mother (right) supervises. My sister is 14 months old in this picture. |
She had wonderful almost-black curls, dark brown eyes, and deep dimples. Her laughter was infectious. She was fluent in at least 3 languages, spoke French with a Parisian accent, and English with a Brooklyn accent. It was hilarious to hear her talking to her mom going back and forth between French and English in the same sentence.
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| Muszka at play. I don't know when or where this picture was taken. |
Whenever she came to visit, she and my sister were inseparable. They were as close as two people who are usually separated by an ocean could be.
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| Muszka and my sister, probably in March of 1969, when I was born. |
I don't remember being jealous of their closeness at all, but I do remember wishing I were older and could be like them.
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| Passover, 1972. From left: Me, my sister, Muszka. |
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| Passover weekend 1972. Back porch of my mom's house. From left: Muszka, my sister, me. |
Muszka often came for long visits in the Summer, and for shorter ones in the Winter. It was like having another sister, one who lived far away sometimes.
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| Summer of 1978. We are on the porch of a house on Fisher Beach in Cape Cod. From Left, Muszka, my sister, me. |
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| Muszka on a winter visit. My sister's room. |
Muszka was a professor of American History at a University in Paris. She was highly regarded in her field. She has a beautiful, smart, wonderful 14-year-old daughter (I couldn't find a picture of the two of them together this morning).
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| I believe this is from my grandma's 80th birthday party. From left: Grandma, Muszka, my aunt (her mom). |
She leaves behind an empty space.
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| July 1989. My sister's wedding. |
I will miss her so much.
