[Edited to change post title. It was upsetting me too much.]
My cousin. 45 years old.
He had cancer… a brain tumor that spread. After multiple surgeries, there was, eventually, nothing more that could be done. Yet when you’d see him, he’d smile and laugh and seem alright. Maybe he broke down alone or with his dad or his girlfriend. But I never saw him do it. Despite knowing he didn’t have long, I never saw him cry.
Mom called a few hours ago. Joey died this morning.
I thought I might not be around here for a while but I’m betting I’ll be all over this place for distraction purposes, if nothing else. I certainly don’t want to sit around and think about him constantly… I’ll be a mess. (Well, messier than usual.) And I don’t want that because, you know, Joey wouldn’t have wanted it. That sweet, cute, upbeat, strong, positive guy would want everyone to remember happy times and smile. ‘Life’s too short,’ he would say. Yes, Joey… it really is.