Good-bye Kenny

My cousin died, today.

He was a year and a half older than me.

No, he wasn't ill. No, we had no warning. He had a massive heart attack, and died. Just like that.

He's gone.

The kid who tormented me, who played with me, who ran through the family barn laughing with me. The kid whose eyes sparkled with laughter and life...and who I could beat regularly in the face making contest (don't ask - let's just say it involved not yet ripe American gooseberries).

He's my family, he's my age, and he's dead. Snuffed out in a moment. Laughing and full of life and then an empty husk that's been left behind.

His parents must be devastated - I haven't been able to get in touch with them. But to out live your child...it breaks my heart to even contemplate. And his wife and children...the pain they must be going through.

For the first time in my life, I want to go to a funeral. Not for Kenny - he's gone on to where ever it is that he's going. But for my family. For me.

I keep falling to tears at work in spurts. I have so many projects on my plate. I have my dogs that need to be taken care of. I can't just up and leave. I wish I could. I ache to do it.

Goodbye, Kenny. You were my cousin, and I loved you. You are my cousin and I love you. Walk softly between the worlds...dance with the stars upon the holy ground...and know that you are loved.

Zikhrono livrakha

Edit: It looks like my boss is willing to work with me about time off...

I am leaving, now, to sit shiva. Maybe it's supposedly only for those in your immediate family - but, for me, it's what I need to do. He is my family.