I hit a wall for about a year. I couldn’t write any poetry or fiction between 2013-2014. I was grieving a cousin who passed away November 30, 2013. He was not just my first cousin but a brother and friend. I was told by someone to write him a letter after he passed away and maybe that would make me feel better. I have yet to write that letter. I can “talk” to him, but I can’t write the letter.
I’m finally getting closer to the point where I think I can write the letter. I’m scared and I don’t know what to write. Where do I start to tell how much I loved this person. He knew me so well…only my twin brother knew me the way he knew me. The three of us were inseparable growing up. We really were the Three Musketeers. My twin brother and I were only 57 days older than my cousin.
It was hilarious when my dear cousin joked that my brother and I were “so old” when we turned 30 before him. Who knew he would be gone by 33. Cancer really does suck. My heart hurts now as I write this. This is the 2nd anniversary of his passing and I can’t believe I can’t laugh with him anymore. His laugh really was infectious. His wit, sarcasm, and creativity was on another level. He could bake beautiful cakes, build background sets for plays, and I could go on and on.
He would be happy I’m writing again. He was so encouraging when it came to my writing skills. We had a great discussion about our plans for the future months before he left this world. I didn’t know his time was about to come to an end. A few weeks before he passed, I talked to him in the hospital. He still asked me about my plans. He wanted to know about my plans as he lay there…time dwindling for him. That’s love. I have never had anyone love me like that. I have never had anyone care about me like that.
I miss him so much. I have no other words other than to say…I’m still doing it. I still have my plans and I hope he would be proud of me. Writing is my first love. I can’t let it go.