He was six foot two with sandy brown hair. Hair that you would see in a Calvin Klein catalog. He gave all of his loved ones big bear hugs with his strong athletic arms. He was a football captain, basketball jock, and Penn State ambassador. He enjoyed a good Arnold movie and classic rock. He made everyone laugh with his goofy voices and witty jokes. He made every girl literally weak with one glance at his rugged good looks and boyish smile. He was a brother, a son, a cousin, a grandson, a nephew, and he was 23-years-old when he died. He was my cousin James.
My cousin James has taught me a whirlwind of lessons in his passing. At the age of 24 I seem to think that lack of happy hour specials and being worried to tell my friend “I can’t go” to her birthday party are the most crucial problems throughout my week. When I start to get upset thinking about conflicts with catty friends or interactions with cruel strangers, I try to remember that things could be a lot worse.
When I miss a train or miss out on a great parking spot, I feel like life is so “unfair” to me. How dare I think such a thing while my Aunt and Uncle suffer every day without their son! How dare I get upset over gaining a few pounds when my cousins no longer can hug their brother!
At James’s funeral I looked around at the people consoling me. I saw the faces of people who have also lost loved ones. I see my second cousin Anthony who had to bury his mom one year, his fiancé the next year, and his dad a week after his fiancé. I see my Uncle’s sister who lost a fiancé and a father. I see my Aunt’s sister who also lost her son the previous year. I see those who lost husbands or wives, brothers or sisters, and the list goes on.
It made me realize that this is all just the beginning. When you are younger you think death is untouchable. You are in an environment where you expect people to live until they are 80. You’d assume that your 23-year-old cousin can grow up and go through life’s evolving stages.
I’d expect James to apply to jobs, go on interviews, start his first job that he hates, date someone for three years, but marry the person he dates for six months, have his first kid, buy a big screen TV to watch the Super Bowl with all of his married friends, and tell his grandchildren about the day he’d hit on all of the girls in the schoolyard when people still used flip phones.
My colleague just lost her 30-year-old brother who recently got married. He died in a car accident and now she has to spend her Easter holiday with one less place setting at the table. My heart breaks for her and her family, and now I can be even more empathetic than before as I see my cousins suffer every day without their baby brother.
I know this is a “25 For Life” piece that is somber and depressing. This is not my intention to make readers upset. I just hope people take the opportunity to see that those around you can be pulled away from you in the matter of seconds. You hold off making a phone call, because you are “too busy with school.” Or you get into a fight with your spouse and take a vow of silence to prove a point. I know it is hard, but try to lift that vow and that phone.
Spend today texting your cousins to check-in with them, telling your parents that you just wanted to say hi and that you love them, buying your boyfriend or girlfriend a surprise lunch. Life is too short and too sad not to take full advantage of every moment’s gift!
