June 30, 2019

I got a phone call from my mom, June 30, 2019. She and my sister had both called me several times, but I was napping. I had stayed up late the night before doing classwork. Anyway, when I saw how the two had called me several times, I already knew, deep in my heart, that we had lost someone. The fact that my dad hadn't called made me scared that it was him. Thankfully, it wasn't. But, the news I had received was no better.

My great-grandmother is almost 100 years old. My grandmother is 59 years old. They have lived long lives. Thankfully, it wasn't either of them. Though, I feel if it was, I wouldn't have been so shocked and distraught.

My mom asked me if I was sitting down. I wasn't. She took a deep breath and told me the most heartbreaking news I have received since I learned that I miscarried three years ago. "They found your cousin, Mason, dead. He went to sleep, and never woke up."

I couldn't breath. I just remember muttering and crying out, "How could this happen, mom? How did that happen?" I remember slowly sinking to my knees, my vision blurry. I started hyperventilating. My mom told me to calm down, but how could I? That was my cousin. My big brother. How did she expect me to calm down, knowing that I would never see him again?

My cousin and I were close. He was the big brother that I had always wanted. He was only 24 years old. One year and three months older than me. And he was gone, just like that. It had been four years since I last spoke to him. Four years. And that weighs on me heavily. It kills me. Because I should have been there.

No one knows, but I feel guilty. I feel guilty that I'm still here, with a family that he should have had, too. I feel guilty because I'm still alive and I will have the future he never will. I feel guilty because I feel it should have been instead.

They say God doesn't make mistakes. But, I think He did this time. Bubby May was still too young. He was full of life and had so much love to give to the world. He was smart and strong and amazing. He was so loved. And, now that he's gone, we all feel like a big piece of us died with him. And it will take awhile before we can even start to heal.

So, to everyone out there, love your family. Call them once a week. Tell them you love them and that you care. Hold them close. Spend the day with them. And to you mothers, love your babies. My aunt had to bury her son today. Her only son. And no mother should ever have to do that. So, love your babies. Because they are precious. And every moment is a gift.