In Memory of My Cousin, Deron

Since I can remember I have always looked up to my cousin Deron, and it’s not difficult to say he was always my favorite. Deron, his wife, and five kids spent a lot of time with my family when we were growing up. He taught us how to ride a mini-bike, launched M-150s out of sling shots with us, told us crazy stories, and played ball tag with us. In fact I still have a scar above my left eye from thinking it was a good idea to jump off our barn and try to land on him during a game of ball tag. Well it wasn’t a good idea; he moved and I landed face first on a huge tree root and split my forehead wide open.

Deron and his family moved a lot so we would sometimes go a year or two without seeing him but every time we did it was just like old times. When I lived in Dallas, Texas he and his family had just moved there so I looked forward to being able to hang out with family as much as possible while I was away at school

Two Saturdays ago I received a call from my brother letting me know that our cousin Deron had a freak stroke and was in a coma. I immediately called our father (his uncle) and he filled me in on more details. At first I didn’t know what to think. Honestly I thought that his chances of survival and recovery were very good. People have strokes all the time and recover, although they may have some lasting effects. Then on Monday afternoon my father called me to let me know that Deron wasn’t improving and in fact his body was shutting down. I instantly felt sick. My father went on to say that preventing a miracle the doctors were turning off Deron’s “power” at 5 p.m. It was now about 4:45 p.m. It was eerie and heartbreaking to think that in fifteen minutes my 45 year old cousin and father of five, was about to slip away into eternity.

After a couple of days of having a heavy heart over my cousin’s passing I emailed my father to ask about Deron’s funeral/memorial. He emailed me back to let me know that it was on Friday at 6:30 p.m. in Reno, Nevada. It was now Thursday so I had to act quickly if I wanted to make it down to say goodbye. I emailed my older brother and said the drive to Reno was only ten hours from Portland and we should hit the road. My brother has a wife and two kids of his own, a full time job, etc, so I was not seriously expecting him to say yes. After speaking on the phone, my brother said he would call our Aunt Emily (Deron’s mother), look into hotel arrangements, and get back to me on whether or not he could go. By 4 p.m. or so we decided it was a go, and as soon as I got off work I went straight home, packed, and headed south for Portland.

I stayed the night in Portland at my brother’s and then we started the long haul to Reno at promptly 5 a.m. It’s a long, but very beautiful drive down to the desert. We passed through various mountain ranges at the average speed of around 90 mph. I think my brother kind of regretted letting me drive as I passed cars two and three at a time and displayed a casual indifference to laws and safety.

We arrived in Fernly, Nevada (just outside of Reno) at around 2:30 p.m. We had enough time to check into our hotel, shower, and make it to my cousin’s house by 4:30 for a quick meal before the service. After an awkward meal at my cousin’s house (I’ve always thought it odd that people eat at funeral/memorial services) we headed to Calvary Chapel for the memorial service.

Deron’s pastor began the service by saying that “There will be tears and there will be laughter, and both are appropriate and necessary.” The pastor then opened up the room for people to speak about what Deron meant to their lives. This service was one of the most moving experiences of my life. I listened to person after person tell stories of Deron’s charity, thoughtfulness, sense of humor, and how he had genuinely impacted their lives in a positive way. I knew these things about my cousin firsthand, but it truly was an awesome way of honoring the man’s life by exchanging these stories. The true measure of a man’s life is how many people show up at his passing, and the words the words they speak about him. I will always miss my cousin, but at the same time I'll take comfort in the fact that he lived a full life and was loved by all who knew him.

-Rainier Butler