Dear Cousin,
For the first time in long time we celebrated Thanksgiving at your house. Holidays just aren't the same anymore. During a time when we are all supposed to be joyous, I find it hard to be. It's not that I don't want to be happy. It's just that there is something missing and no matter how hard I try to be happy there is a feeling deep down inside that something just isn't right.
Every time I walk into your home, I take a couple minutes to look at the couch in your living room. It was the last place I saw you alive even though you were very sick. The cancer beginning to finish its journey to take you away from us. We all wanted to take that pain from you. I can't stay in the living room too long because of this but no one in our family knows that. It's why I didn't protest to leaving Thanksgiving early. I constantly stare at that spot on the couch where you would stay when we get those rare moments to visit.
On December 7th it will be the two year anniversary of your passing and it hasn't gotten any easier. There are so many things I want to tell you. I regret not spending more time with you. In the last few years of your life, when you were struggling the most, I wish I was there for you more. I feel like I didn't do enough for you. Maybe there was something I could have done but I just didn't know.
You should be out on the soccer field right now, You should be organizing a game for all the cousins to play and coming up from the basement telling me I'm boring because I didn't want to play with the kids. I should have gone with you. I should have enjoyed more what time I had with you when you were healthy but I was so confident that you would get through this. I have so many questions for you. Why were you taken from us? Where are you now? Are you safe? Are you free of the pain? I believe that you are free of the pain but when you were freed I think the pain just transferred into our family. We feel your loss daily.
I have a memory from when we were younger. It's a short and sweet one but it's sad too. I don't remember how old you were. You and my brother were in strollers and I was walking beside you. I remember thinking how awesome it was going to be when we were older. When I could take you and my brother to the mall and we didn't have to go to the boring mom type stores. We could just be cool older kids and I would take care of you.
I look at my brother going to high school and think about how you two should be going to football games together and talking smack about the others school. He doesn't talk about you much but I think losing you affects him more than we realize. He'll be okay though. So will the rest of our cousins. I promise you I will look out for them the same way you did. It's one thing our family is always good for. We protect our own and when one person is down we rally around them.
Every year around this time, it's hard and it will never get easier. You were taken from us too soon and we can't get you back. There will always be something missing but talking about you still and all the happy times makes things seem like they will be okay.
I hope you are enjoying Great-Grandmas Italian meatballs up in heaven and Great-Grandpas got the Yankees game on while talking about construction or cars. We miss you. Continue sending us #12's* so we know you are doing alright.
Sincerely,
Your Older Cousin
*#12 was his soccer number and our friends and family members find it in random places all the time
