Saturday I learned that one of my younger cousins recently passed away. I found out in a text from a friend who saw it on Facebook. He had died five days prior, the day before my birthday. I was devastated and heartbroken over hearing the news of his death and initially hurt that no one thought to tell me. That’s the price to pay for being in another country.
I haven’t been close to my family, with the exception of my father and sister, for over two years. I had a falling out with my mother in Nov. 2020 and from the whispers I’ve heard, all of her extended family sided with her. I haven’t heard a peep from any of them, including my mother, since. So his death and the manner in which I learned about it hit extra hard.
My cousin was only 28. He was sweet and kind and probably too sensitive for this harsh world. He had the most infectious laugh and gave the best hugs of anyone in the family. When he’d hug you, you felt like he was giving you every ounce of love he had to give. I loved him dearly.
The first thing I did when I learned of his passing was, play an old voicemail from him that I had saved from Oct. 2020. He was applying for his dream job and he asked me if I would help him with his resume and role-play job interviewing together. To his credit, he landed the job three months prior, and this voicemail was to tell me that after his 90-day evaluation he was getting a small promotion. He was over the moon excited in his message and it was so good to hear his voice again. I don’t know how many times he thanked me for my help but it was too many, he was the one who had put in the hard work and earned this recognition. But the part that touched me the most was the “I love you so much, Em” at the end which brought me to tears once again while standing in the middle of a narrow street in Florence. Death is difficult to process anyway, but at 28 years of age, it is just plain cruel and unfair.
As I was trying to wrap my head around everything, I looked through my phone at old photos of us together and tried to remember the good times. Going to visit him at college for “cousin’s weekend.” His visit to stay with me in NYC. I took him to a Nets game and during a somber moment, because we were losing, he started a “Let’s Go Brooklyn” chant and got the entire crowd on their feet and cheering. It was incredible! I took him and his friends to a rave once – they needed a responsible driver. That was a wild event and totally out of my comfort zone but he treated me just like one of his buddies and got me to jump up and down to the music with them…laughing the entire time. Plus, all the holidays, birthdays, and random dinners we’d shared together. It felt good to remember him and reminisce the fun (and funny) memories we made together. We had an extra special inside joke, just for us, that we did to each other twice a year. Our birthdays were on each other’s “half-birthday,” so every year (until recently) we would call or text the other one and scream, “HAPPY HALF-BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE!” I thought about texting him this year on mine to wish him a happy half-birthday but I figured it would rock the boat, so I didn’t.
That’s the difficult thing about following your own path, no matter how hard you try to explain it – not everyone will understand it, some people will forget about you, and sometimes it ends relationships. But as they say, for better or worse, life goes on…which I’m still trying to understand and accept.
The premature end to our relationship was collateral damage of a much bigger and deeply rooted issue not involving him. He was the one person in the family that I thought I could/should stay in contact with when the big blow-up happened with my mother but I ultimately decided that I didn’t want to put him in that position – to have to choose or have any uncomfortable conversations. It was easier for everyone if I just disappeared. So now, learning of his passing, I’m full of regret and sadness that I didn’t make the calls or send the texts to him that I thought about so many times over the last couple of years. I think I thought that eventually, our paths would merge again and all would be well. I was wrong.
I’m sad I wasn’t in his life these last couple of years. I would have loved to watch him grow in his dream career and build on his initial success. When we last spoke it sounded like he had finally found his place in this world and was enjoying life. I was, am, and always will be, proud of him and the impact he made on so many of us during his short time here.
Rest in peace, dear one. I will always celebrate you and your half-birthday.
Goodnight and much love from Florence.