With the Christmas season approaching, I remember my cousin, Sandra Kay Jackson Miller Comisky Dugan. She always made our family Christmas celebrations memorable with her tins of homemade sweets.
These treats were creative and delicious. Imagine miniature stained-glass windows made of chocolate and marshmallows, and that was just one of the variety of sweets she made. What amazed me the most was that Sandra was diabetic. She loved to make treats she couldn’t eat for herself, so she gifted them to the family every Christmas.
I don’t know much about Sandra’s upbringing. She was born in 1935, the daughter of my great-aunt Crystal LaSenius Jackson Miller and her first husband, Francis Jeter Jackson, Sr. Crystal’s second husband was Joe Miller, who stepped in as Sandra’s father. My cousin, Francis Jeter Jackson (Jay), Jr., was Sandra’s brother.
In 1978, at 42 years of age, Sandra married Richard Comisky, a chef, who later changed their last name to Dugan—something to do with choosing his family’s original name. I remember the name change being explained to me at the time, but I don’t remember the details. With her mom’s two husbands and her husband’s two last names, that’s why Sandra had such a long string of names.
Sandra lived in Miami during my growing-up years, and we visited her often. She had grown up with my mom, Joy Washburn Gillis, and the two were very close. My mom said she always thought Sandra was such a cute little kid. My mom was nine years older, so she seemed to take young Sandra under her wing.
My mom used to have a horse, chickens, and rabbits at their home when she was growing up. It’s hard to believe Miami, Florida was once countryside like that. When Sandra was young, she hopped up on my mom’s horse. I think the intent was to walk her around on the horse, but suddenly he took off.
My mom was terrified as she watched the horse run across the field with Sandra. But when he reached the edge of the field, he stopped. Sandra was fine. I imagine young Sandra must have been shaken up, but the incident didn’t dampen her love of animals.
That love of animals was something Sandra and I had in common. One of my earliest photos was of a trip to the zoo with my mom and Sandra. I’m sure she enjoyed introducing me to new kinds of animals and watching my reactions.
I remember Sandra’s basset hound, Ozzie, whose ears would drag as he waddled along the floor to greet me. She later got a second basset hound, Reggie, a cute puppy whose high energy blended well with Ozzie’s mellowness.
With Sandra’s care for animals and her interest in medicine, she would have been a great veterinarian. But she didn’t have the heart to stick animals with needles. Instead, she focused her medical interests on nursing, serving for 40 years and becoming a nurse practitioner when that field was very new.
After Sandra and Richard got married, they moved to the west coast of Florida. Around that same time, we moved from Miami to central Florida. We visited them often during my teen years, as it was just about an hour’s drive each way. I enjoyed those visits. I always liked Sandra and Richard. They were gentle people.
During my last years of high school, they moved back to the east coast, to Hobe Sound, Florida. The drive was farther, but we still visited them on occasion, and they sometimes visited us. Sandra would bring me chocolate and a plush animal. She knew I was crazy about animals and had an extensive collection of plush fluffies, as well as my real cat, Taffy.
While I wish I knew more details of Sandra’s life to share with future generations, I can at least tell you she and Richard were both very kind people. They made a very sweet couple—others in the family had that same observation. They took good care of each other and always made folks feel welcome.
Sandra was always very interested in what I was doing in my young life. Whenever we visited, they would include me in the conversations, no matter how young I was. I enjoyed getting to see them whenever we had the chance.
Sandra and Richard were a blessing in my life. I was grateful to have known them. It seems appropriate that I treat myself to some kind of special dessert this Christmas in their memory. I don’t have the culinary talent to make those stained-glass windows, but I’m sure I can find a chocolate-covered marshmallow and smile at the wonderful memories.
Exploring Generations 