Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Six years ago today I got the phone call that shattered my heart. My cousin (more like a brother) Kevin had taken his final trip up to heaven. There aren't enough tears in the whole world that would do this loss justice. He was the bravest, most compassionately caring, teddy bear like person to ever cross through my life. He was strong beyond belief, and when he spoke, people listened. One to wear his emotions on his sleeves, you knew if he was happy, by the sound of his contagious laugh, if he was angry by the roar in his throat, or sad by the heart breaking shrill in his cry. On days like today, I close my eyes, and try to picture life if Kevin had stayed. Things would be very different. Life would be less bitter. Sometimes I still want to pick up the phone and call him, to hang out. Sometimes I look at his pictures just to smile to myself, about the thousand and thousands of stories and memories I have in my memory bank with him in it. July 17th will always be a sad day for me. I know that 70 years from now, when I'm old and gray (If I get there) I will still feel this void in my life, this loss, this indescribable pain that Kevin's departure left. Kevin, I talk to you every night before I go to sleep, it helps calm me down, and makes smile knowing you're up there listening, and watching. I love you, and I miss you more than I could ever explain. I hope you're looking down on us all, and that you realize just how much of a positive impact you had on all of our lives. And when it's my time to go, you better be waiting for me at the gate, with a shot of So-Co, and Budweiser! Love You Primo! Rest in Paradise!