Angie

It was 1988. Hot. Most likely summer.

I'm not quite sure what I did but my mother was set on punishing me for it. Usually she spanked me, which I've always hated. I've been allergic to pain all my life and that will probably always be. I'd take "being on punishment" over physical pain anyday. Nevertheless, on this particular occasion my mother didn't think a whipping was sufficient enough. My punishment was to attend a funeral of an older gentleman I can't recall at the moment. I probably didn't know him. Probably someone that attended our Church. Either way, it was my very first funeral and I had no idea what to expect.

I specifically remember my mother getting me ready and sending me off with my dad, since she didn't "do funerals". My dad held my hand the entire service. I remember walking slowly up to the casket to take a look at the body. I could barely peep over the side of it. A dark, wrinkly gentleman laid peacefully in a mahogany colored coffin. My heart nearly jumped out of my body.
I quickly closed my eyes and held tightly to my dad. I didn't understand death. How could he not be breathing? Why isn't his chest moving? Where is he now? I just didn't understand.

It's 20 years later and my understanding of death has not improved much. My labor day celebrations were cut short by the news of my cousin's death. I've never been much of a public crier, so I quietly excused myself to my room before letting out heartfelt sobs. Cousin Angie has been sick for a while. I've written about a few of her trips to the ER(here)... but nothing ever prepares you for a life lost. She just celebrated her 45th birthday at the beginning of August. All the family was there because there was an unspoken sense that this may be her last birthday, but no one expected it to be her last month. My last memory of her was at this celebration.
Smiling like there wasn't a sick bone or muscle in her body. Surrounded by her family, she ate and chatted with everyone like she had 45 more years left in her. She wanted to get married. Have a child. Neither of which, she'd done before. Sadly, she never will. Angie, her mother and sister were the best of friends. I've never seen a closer knit family than the 3 of them. Imagining their loss brought even more tears. In a sense, they were like a married threesome. Spending their entire lives together, living together, growing together...It's sad.

I still feel like that 8 year old. Wondering how could someone that was just here, be gone like that? How can she not be at family functions anymore? Where is she now? I still don't understand death. Unfortunately, I've had to deal with it a lot more these days. And the thing about it is that with every new loss, the old ones are re-lived again. I began to remember my grandmother who died in '06, and my gramma and granddad who died in '03. My aunts, and great uncles...friends and classmates. They all come to mind as I mourn the loss of the newest addition to the "other side".

They said early yesterday morning, Angie started to bleed from her rectum. Her heart stopped before the paramedics could arrive. She was pronounced dead around 7:30 am.

She was a sweet, gentle lady with the demeanor of a grade school teacher or librarian. Her laugh was infectious, and smile was blindingly bright. I will miss my cousin dearly. I'm guessing the funeral will be this weekend. I'm not quite sure I can keep it together. Unlike when I was 8, this is someone I've known my whole life. This is family. This is my blood. She's a part of me that I can't get back.

Please keep her mother, sister, boyfriend...and entire family in your prayers.

Rest in Peace Angie.

Rest in Peace.