Friday, July 7, 2017
By now you've heard the news about our cousin's death.
Monday morning when the news reached me I felt like I was punched in the gut. It lasted all day. Even when I went for a run, trying to grip reality in my mind, my stomach clenched and tears rolled. I kept going, just hoping no one going by would notice.
(On a plus note it's the furthest I've run in a long time.)
This cousin was my best buddy when we grew up. We are both the youngest of ten, girls with older brothers (and sisters) who annoyed us and yet also spoiled us. We were pen pals in different states. We were Bert and Ernie. We spent weeks together in the summer, and camping together holds some of my favorite memories. In high school we started going our separate ways. Our choices in college and beyond took us in opposite directions, but we still managed to talk occasionally. Then she ended up living just 15 miles away from me in our adult years. And yet I still feel like I didn't do enough, didn't visit enough, didn't talk enough. Now it's too late.
So brothers who don't talk to each other, please get in touch with those people who made your childhood memories, who played a part in making you who you are today. Phone, text, email, write a letter to your siblings whom you haven't talked to in years. It's worth it. Because when the time comes for them to go to heaven, you might not have the chance ... and that's not something you want to live with for the rest of your life.