My cousin died this year. Pancratic cancer. 3 months from diagnosis to dead. Just long enough to complete the journey.
He was older, just enough older that he had solved the problems and confusions of whatever age I was at, yet close enough in age that I could see in him how I wanted to be. Distant enough that I could not see his faults. I always looked up to him. Then, as adults, we lost touch.
He is the first of my generation to go on. As always, he is a pathfinder. If there was another side, he would be there waiting for me, still smiling with his gentle strength. This though gives me peace.
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