Tag: death

  • Lessons Learned Through Grief

    Lessons Learned Through Grief

    My cousin died last week. He was 32. 
    Obviously, he was too young to go. He left behind a wife, a sister, a niece, a mom, a dad, and two step-families who loved him very much — not to mention the rest of his family, including his cousins like me. The last week has understandably been very difficult for my family. We buried my sweet grandmother just a month ago and now suddenly we are all reeling in shock and pain again. It doesn’t feel like we can handle anymore loss. 
    His death has taught me a few things and I wanted to share those lessons with our readers. 
    First — Live life fully. Little did I know when I hugged his neck at my grandmother’s funeral that I’d never see him again. Make each embrace, each conversation, everything — make it all count. Try not to let petty disagreements or anger cloud your interactions with those that you love.  Try to be “present” in every moment with those you care about instead of merely living passively. The end can come quickly and if it does, you’ll always regret not living a full life and embracing each moment with the people you care most about. 
    Second — It can wait. While we are not certain of exactly what happened in my cousin’s case, it is clear that he was somehow distracted while driving. So for the love of all that is holy — Put away your cell phones, always wear your seatbelt, and pay attention to the road at all time. Distracted driving can be deadly driving and nothing — I repeat, NOTHING — is worth risking your life for while you’re on the road. 
    Third — Put your final wishes in writing. I know that you may think it is morbid to talk about “final wishes” or arrangements when you are in your 20’s or 30’s, but it is not. It is smart. I hope and pray that everyone lives a long, happy life but the sad truth is that some lives are cut short. If that happens to you, it will be much easier on your loved ones if they know your final wishes. So while it may not be the most fun thing to do, please think about documenting things properly.
    The end should never come that early for any of us. Ever. Especially for the good guys. Make no mistake about it, my cousin was one of the good guys. He really was. But I take some comfort in knowing that even in death, he has taught me these lessons.  I hope that by sharing them here, his impact is even more profound and his legacy as one of the good guys grows. 
    So today, in memory of my cousin, vow to live a full life. Vow to never become distracted while on the road. And finally, vow to do the responsible thing and make sure that your final wishes are somehow known. When you are done taking those vows, take a moment and remember my cousin for the good guy that he was and if you could, say a prayer for the wife, mother, sister and other family members and friends he left behind. We all dearly miss him. And we always will. 

  • The Last Conversation

    The Last Conversation

    This last Saturday, I spoke to my grandmother for the last time. 
    I did not know it was the last time of course. If I had known, I would have paid better attention to the sound of her voice so that I could always recall its exact pitch and tone. If I had known, I would have asked if we could chat just a second longer when she asked that I pass the phone to my sister. If I had known, I would have told her that I loved her a second and even a third time. If I had known, I would have asked her to tell me a story about my dad when he was younger. If I had known, I would have begged her to stay just a few months longer so she could have met the sweet, sweet life that is still growing inside of me. 
    But I didn’t know. 
    We never do. We never know which conversation will be our last. We never know which visit will mark the end. We never know which hug will never happen again. 
    I am broken. Absolutely heartbroken. 
    I know that nothing but time will help mend my broken heart. 
    So until then, I’ll try to focus on good memories like her feisty attitude and snark and I’ll try to come to peace with the fact that the life inside of me will never meet its great-grandmother. I’ll try to ignore the loss I feel knowing that she was planning to make this baby a quilt… a quilt it will never be wrapped tight in.

    I’ll try to not regret the time we didn’t get and instead treasure the time we did. I’ll try to remember that I did at least tell her that I loved her hours before she left this world… she departed knowing that she was loved by me… by her other grandchildren… by her son and daughter. And I suppose that’s really all we can really hope for in this life… to be loved and know it.

    She was loved. Oh so, so, so loved. And she will be missed. Oh so, so, so missed.