My cousin died yesterday. He was killed in an accident at work. From what I know, he was working on scaffolding when the storm kicked up faster than expected and blew him off. He will be missed.
I was around 11 or 12 when he was born *I think* I can't tell you exactly. I remember being at the hospital, trying to keep his older brother amused and I can remember hearing him cry one of his first cries. I remember him as a cute little ragamuffin with the blondest of blond ringlet curls, and a smile that promised mischief. He was a loving little guy, but whoo boy did he like to be ornery!
I remember that, but I can't say that I really knew the young man he had become. I know he was to deploy over seas soon. I know he had an absolute shit for dad, and not much more for a mother the first few years of his life. I know that, despite, or perhaps in spite, of that, he was a sweet kid. I know my parents would drive the hour or so out of town ever so often to take him and his brothers out to buy new clothes and just spend some loving time with them.
I know that he was a sweet kid. I know that, despite his fathers faults, he loved him and saw something good. I know that, if not for him, his father may not have found a way to act half decent. And I know without him, my mother worries very much about her baby brother and how he will be now that the one son out of three that loved him is gone.
I know that part of my family is gone and I feel it in my heart. My family may be large, but I find each and every one of them necessary and irreplaceable.
I know that he is with his true Father and that He is holding him and seeing to his happiness. I know that he is looking on us with love and I know that Heaven is blessed with one more angel. I know this, but it doesn't stop me from wishing that just once more I could have hugged that big bear of a young man and made sure he understood how loved he was.
Reviews to follow tomorrow.