To outlive, and to never forget

These past two days have been tough. Each day can bring a new experience, but these recent experiences are some that I would rather not know again.

Yesterday, I visited my younger cousin in the hospital. He showed remarkable strength on the outside and with his spirit, but that did not change the fact that an infection has stopped much of his digestive tract from functioning. Greater details are not necessary.


David, my younger cousin, showed me and his many loved ones what it means to be courageous, and what it means to love and be loved. He kept his sense of humour, and he struggled to answer each phone call, as he trembled to hold the phone tight to his ear. He reminded each of his callers and family members that he loved us; we reminded him of the same. He was surrounded by many loving souls, and those of us who saw him last night or today saw an amazing young man.

In these moments I can't help but think about my childhood memories of Big Dave. On my Dad's side of the family, he was the youngest cousin among 5 boys and 2 girls. Each of us boys exceeded 6 feet, and at a young age, Dave aspired to join us at that height. He used to convince us that he was the biggest, and later in life, when he really did become one of the biggest, he certainly learned to out-jump us!

He always knew how to find a deal, and he always had an angle on how to meet the demand of a market. In recent times, this included selling burned CDs to his friend, but I was sure that he would eventually go into business professionally.

And now, I see my younger cousin, barely out of high school, and his body is succumbing to tiny cancerous cells and microbial invaders. I am struck by the frailty of the human body and the resilience of the human spirit. I am blessed to have known my cousin, David, for so many years, and to go forward with such great memories.

And I am incredibly forlorn as I think of his young, unfinished life. His unfilled ambitions, goals and dreams. It shouldn't have to happen this way; Mothers, Fathers, older brothers, sisters and cousins, grandmothers, uncles and aunts should not have to watch their son, grandson, nephew, or younger brother or cousin fade away like this.

No, this doesn't seem right.

But, I was truly glad to see Dave last night. As I said, he was in great and courageous spirits, and he never lost his tenacity or sense of humour. One moment, he had a burst of energy and he began to lift and flex his leg. He said, "I've got energy, I might as well use it." It's amazing how profound the words of a teenager can be. Shouldn't we all strive to do what we are able to do with what have have available to us?

After I visited for a few hours, I prepared myself to say goodbye. As I shook his hand and said goodbye, he was the one who told me he loved me first. In that moment, as I returned the kind words, I looked him in the eye, realizing that we had never before exchanged those words. "I love you too, man. I love you," I said as I held his hand for a long, hearty handshake.

"Goodbye," I said, first to Dave, then to my Uncle, Aunt, Mom, Dad, Grandmother and Dave's girlfriend. "Goodbye and take care," I said, to Dave one last time. And then I turned and walked away from the room. This is life, I thought. Those are the people I love, I remarked, as I walked down the hall. And that is my younger cousin. As I turned back to look back at the room, a combination of melancholy and love erupted in me.

I love that guy, he is one hell of a young man and one great cousin. He will be missed. And, he will not be forgotten.