Goodbye, Stevie

I got a phone call last night.... And it was my mom, and it was late, around 10pm, she called to tell me that a friend and family member had died. It was the son of my cousin's husband's wife. In writing that I know it is weird. But in reality it is even stranger than that. See my mom was an accident, her brother and sister are almost 20 years her senior (18 and 19 respectfully). So while she was growing up, it was her sisters kids that grew up with her. Unheard of in the 50's right? Well I don't know, but anyway...

I grew up around my cousin's kids (so they're my 2nd cousins) and the guy who died, Stevie, was my cousin's nephew. He was a couple of years older than me, and his death is kind of a shock. Though I hadn't seen him in 15-20 years, he was under 40-years-old, he died a drug addict. For that, I really can't blame anyone except him, it happens, and well, we all make choices and his were clearly not the right choices to make.

But when death happens, it makes one think about things that you normally don't consider or think about. I remember Stevie as a beach blond boy with a Mississippi accent... and simpler times. Well, they probably weren't all that simple, but I didn't worry about the times because I was a kid. I also came to terms with my own mortality. Nobody gets out of life alive. That was what my father told me when he had cancer a few years ago.

So rest in piece, Stevie. I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch, and even sorrier that you made some bad choices in your life.