My mother didn’t come to the hospital the day I gave birth to my daughter. I can’t remember if she had a reason, or if that reason had any validity. That morning, I nearly bled out during a repeat c-section. Over the course of the day, I experienced such a range of emotions that ultimately, I was grateful my mother wasn’t there. My cousin, however, couldn’t be kept away.

P was three years older than my father and went to high school with my mother’s older sister giving her a knowledge of both sides of my family, something that doesn’t frequently happen in cases of divorce and estrangement. I could wax poetic about what she meant to be, but I won’t do it. Memories such as the ones I have of her are meaningless out of context; life is worth much more than that.

There are people who set out to change the world, who have lofty aspirations, whose reaches exceed their grasps. Then there those who resolve themselves not to change. They wake up each morning unashamed about who they are and in remaining true to themselves, do change the world.

So this is for you, my darling cousin. I shall always think of you as a friend first, though we all know you were also a Marine, a lesbian, a Catholic, and a Phillies’ fan. And in never letting any of those things prevent you from being one of the others, in a life that was too short, you changed the world.

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  1. on 14 Feb 2010 at 7:03 pmbklover08@gmail.com

    I am so glad that I came over to your site, because this is truly a beautiful commentary on love and relationships – and that is something that I think all of us struggle with, regardless of what our life looks like from the outside…glad that you did have the support that you needed but sorry to hear that you have lost her. It is always the ones you treasure most, it seems, that leave us too soon.

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