Respectance.com

As a child, I spent a good deal of time visiting family in the American midwest. My favorite aunt, uncle and cousins lived there. The time spent with them forms some of my fondest childhood memories. They lived out in the country side, near water and there was always lots to do if you didn’t mind the mosquitos.

My cousins were a lot younger than I, but were so much fun. In many ways they were so different than I was. I loved it there with them. I think we were good friends as kids.

When I was in University I got a call that my youngest cousin had died in a horrible accident. He was still just a child. I remember us piling into the car the next morning for the 10 hour drive to their home. I remember the house filled with baked goods and casseroles from the friends and neighbours, and filling fast with family from around America. It was a profoundly sad time. What I remember the most clearly though was that our family has never really recovered from the loss. We’ve moved on, but are all changed. I cannot imagine the agony that my Aunt and Uncle still suffer from the loss.

It took a long time before we spoke of him at family gatherings. By then, these gatherings had become much less frequent as I had grown into my own life. I still mourn my cousin, and when I visit my aunt and uncle I still wander around their home looking at my favorite pictures of him on their walls.

He died almost two decades ago now but if I close my eyes and sit very still I can hear him laughing with us.

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Posted by Martha Mihaly

13 Apr