Rest in Peace cousin...and thoughts on Mortality.

There's a meme/picture out on the web about cousins being your first friends and how they are the only ones who understand our family.  In our case it was true.  In some ways...I didn't learn to make friends until I was older...because I already  had 12 great friends.  

And then Thursday happened...

“This isn’t supposed to happen to us”

It was my first thought hearing the news. 

“We’re still the kids…we can’t die…what happened???”

At 2:30 on May 26, 2016…the world changed.  The news hit me that one of the original 12 Short Grandkids was gone.  Liz, Michelle, Wendy, Dawn, Betty, Kathy, Billy (Me), Nate, Steve, Chuck, Sara and Beth.  We were the original 12 Short Grandkids.  More came later; Matthew, Mark, Brett, Joey, Roxanne and Danielle…but the original dozen of us spent a lot of our formative years together.  Christmases, weekends, birthdays, "happy because" days...all of us were a unit.  

We grew up together.  Played together. Picked on me together J.  It was family.  The first true friends I’d ever known.  We were invincible.  We’d survived almost drowning, getting eaten by a dog, pissing off a penguin when we rode our big wheels on his driveway to turn around, hearing stories of how Santa wasn’t coming because Grandpa shot Rudolph last year (he’d even put a red nose on the deer head he had mounted on the fireplace), the cookie drawer and even jumping off roofs into pools.  We defied gravity and the odds.  We were mean to each other sometimes…but there was always love.   Nothing could touch us.  We were safe.

We were family.  We are family and each member of this family is a part of the tapestry and foundation of my life. 

And now one of us is gone.  No reason…no idea.  No real point.  Not just one of us…but one of the youngest.  In fact, until Sara and Beth arrived…she was THE youngest.  There’s no crime.  No car accident, no debilitating illness.  Nothing to account for or blame for this.  She wasn’t even 40 years old (a fact she loved to tell my sister on HER 40^th)…mother of two amazing little girls…involved in her community and a spitfire pistol wild and crazy woman…and she’s gone. 

Maggot is gone. (Sorry Kath...had to be done)

How in the world does this happen? 

She was vibrant, a little nuts, involved in her kids’ lives and really made something of herself in her community. 

We weren’t terribly close…and yet I’m still a bit in shock and sad.  We lost touch over the years…some through decisions made and some just by the passage of time and distance.  However…I guess I just always assumed we’d all live forever.  Somehow find the time to say things we needed to.

That time is past. 

I've spent the last few days thinking about this.  It's weird in a way but her loss has made me ponder the idea of my own mortality.  Somehow…even losing my mother felt natural in a way.  That is the way it’s supposed to go.  We outlive our parents.  We become the next generation.  It’s really our whole reason to exist.   Each of the original Short kids that can remember Gram and Gramp, I think in some small part of their brain imagine what it’ll be like to be their age and have the chaos, fun and family that they built over the years.  We feel entitled in some ways…to grow old and make a large family.  Even me who’s the only one of us unable to have kids…still imagines a time when I’ll be a grandfather hosting a Christmas eve celebration with a house full of my kids and grandkids.  I know in my heart it’s a dream that probably won’t come true the way I imagine…but all the same it's there. 

Yet Kathy was robbed.  Hell…we were robbed.  Her kids were robbed.  Her parents were robbed.  Her sisters, friends, other family, the people she was going to run into next week at Wegmans while getting a quart of milk.  We were all robbed.   Hers wasn’t a life ‘finished’ yet.  There was still more.  I know there will be people who ‘pick up the yolk’…but it would have been amazing to see what she could do...and her loss this week has made me realize that I never doubted there were great things she would do.  

Hell...in my eyes there isn't a member of my family who can't do great things.  

Each one of my cousins and their spouses and kids (along with my sister) is capable of lighting this world on FIRE with the awesomeness that is them.  Even the ones I don't get along with or am struggling with right now.  Kathy's loss has made me realize how much I believe in each of us to do something spectacular.  

And I realized one more thing...

We aren’t invulnerable.  Tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us.  Kathy’s loss awoke me to that.  I’ve had to face some tough truths about myself in that.

In some ways…the last four years I’ve been living my life in neutral…letting whatever road I was on dictate my speed and direction feeling justified in that the circumstances of divorce and death of a loved one somehow entitled me to a little ‘neutral time’.  It's like I've been on one of those cars you can ride at Darien Lake on a track that just drives you around a fake town.  You can’t steer (though you try) or accelerate too fast.  You’re totally out of control…but the steering wheel and other switches make you think you are the one driving and like an 8 year old holding an ice cream cone on that ride…I’ve been pretending I’m the one driving and all I’ve been doing is letting my circumstances dictate my path.  That has to stop.  Yeah…since 2012 my life hasn’t been what I planned…but every day is still precious.  There’s still life to live. 

That’s not to say I don’t love my ‘new life’ here.  Moving here has been a blessing and a challenge.  I’m still finding my path…but I’ll admit to ‘putting off’ some of the journey in lieu of waiting for things to ‘change’.  Kathy’s death has shown me I can’t do that anymore.  For all I know…I have a short time to live.  I pray for a longer life…one full of family and friends and music and laughter and love…but it’s up to me to cram as much of that as I can into every single day. 

Tell your people you love them.  If there’s strife between you and the people important to you…bury it today.   Stop living your life like it’s an accident and start finding your path. 

For me…I’ll be going to be a part of my family Tuesday.  Thank you for all the kind words and well wishes.  We’ll be at Fuller’s Funeral Home Tuesday 2-4 and 6-8ish (1 hour calling hour and then a small service) to honor Kathy. 

Saying goodbye won’t be easy…and Kathy…if you see my Mom…tell her you both are missed. 

Thanks for Reading;