I'm having all the feels today. I haven't fully processed the news that came in first thing after I got up. My dad let me know that my oldest cousin died early this morning. He and his younger brother were the cousins I spent the most time with growing up, and I think my mom won't be too mad at me for saying he was always her favorite of all my cousins. He was charming and funny (except maybe to his high school classmate, the above-mentioned Mr Brooks), and we always enjoyed his company. But I have to admit, I haven't been in touch with him in several years. It was his brother who was (is) more like a sibling to me than a cousin, so he and I communicate more often. Thus, the first time real tears started was when the brother called me to make sure I had been told.
To some extent, he had been on borrowed time for a while. He had a massive heart attack at age 50, and only survived because he was surrounded by people who had access to a defibrillator and training how to use it. But really, his whole adult life might have been that way. I remember going out with the whole family for a picnic when he was in college in the town where I grew up. His brother paid up on a bet that he wouldn't live past 21, and that day was his 22nd birthday. I mentioned that memory to my cousin when he called today, and he laughed and then got very quiet. I hope I didn't cause him more pain.
I don't know whether there will be a service or a wake or what. I promised that if there is something, I would be there with all the hugs that Colorado can send. If sometime next week, all my photos are from the highway, you know I'm on my way to Oklahoma to say goodbye to someone I loved from the very start.
It's a recycled photo sort of night. I'm sure you understand why.
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