Life's funny like that.

Have you ever had a moment in life just stop you in your tracks?   You can be speeding along through this busy life, and you see or hear something that just stops you right there.  Life's funny that way. 

Have you ever thought about how each day may be "just another day" for you, but for someone else it may be momentous?   For instance, maybe your day just looks like every other day.  Normal routine, normal chores, nothing spectacular.  Your friend, however, may give birth to her firstborn that day, changing her life forever!   Life's funny that way. 

Have you ever met someone new, only to find out that you are connected in a million ways and you never knew it?  Life's funny that way.

Or, have you ever had a friend or loved one who meant the world to you, even if you rarely had a chance to talk to them, and saw them even less?  Maybe that friend you knew from summer camp that you may never talk to, but when you do, it's like you were never apart?  Life's funny that way. 


This week I had one of those moments that stopped me in my tracks.  Tuesday night I got a phone call that my beloved cousin had passed away the day before.   That moment paralyzed me.   I know I must have responded to the call with words that made sense, because the caller (my dad) didn't question me, but I really don't even remember answering.  Or hanging up the phone.   Or how I drove home from the gym with my kids a few minutes later.   I was frozen.   Paralyzed.  Stopped in my tracks.  I couldn't move.  Or breathe.  Or think.   That Monday was just another day for me, but for my extended family (aunt, uncle, my other cousin), it was life changing.  For my beloved cousin, it was his last.   I couldn't understand how that could be the case.  I still can't.  It doesn't seem real.  It seems like a cruel joke.  And yet, today, his obituary was posted, and I know it isn't a joke.  Life isn't funny like that. 

It's so strange.  I haven't seen my cousin in probably 20 years (or more).   I rarely talked to him other than quick messages on Facebook.  And yet, he is so intertwined in my childhood that I feel like part of me died on Monday as well.   I idolized him as a child.  He was one of my closest friends at times, and one of my most annoying enemies at others.  I know the 13 months he had on me meant he saw me as the annoying younger cousin at times.  Yet, I also know that as kids we shared some heart to heart talks that no one ever knew about but us.   I could never do justice to the memories I have of him, but I can't help but think of so many fun times.

I remember watching old tv shows and eating snacks on TV trays.

I remember we were frequent playmates because our families were together so much, especially when our dads co-owned a business. 

I remember playing dentist on a long car ride.

I remember that time we went to the movies as young teens and were the only two in the theatre.  That was weird.

I remember how, for years, I wanted to name my future son either Matthew Kristopher or Kristopher Matthew in honor of these two brothers who were my cousins. 

I remember playing "sardines" at Grandma and Grandpa's.

I remember being terrified of the lake in their backyard because he told me an alligator would climb out and eat me.  Ha!

I remember falling for so many things he and Matt said.  I was gullible.  And I adored them.   And I would do anything to impress them or make them happy. 

I remember we made up all kinds of strange outdoor games to play together. 

I remember being SO excited when it was time to visit.

I remember the giant cockroaches we saw when they moved to Oklahoma City. 

I remember how all my friends thought my cousins were gorgeous? handsome?  whatever 80s word was popular then? and would find excuses to come over and visit when they were there.  I was so proud they were my cousins! 

I remember when my grandmother died and my cousins were there for me even though I know they hurt, too.

I remember how proud I was when I heard he had been to med school. And how brilliant he was.   And how sometimes unmotivated he was with that brilliance (and it made me want to shake him!).  :) 

I remember the family photos with the horrible 80's clothes...when all 3 brothers (my dad, his dad, and our uncle) took turns standing on their tiptoes to be the taller brother. 

I remember how glad I was to have younger siblings so that I wasn't the youngest and couldn't always be picked on anymore.

I remember stories of him asking if we dug a big enough hole in the sandbox, could we "dig down to the DEBIL?"

I remember all those times I got in trouble for what he and his brother put me up to.  :)  Aunt Vicki didn't mess around with rule breakers. ;) 

I remember Lite Brites and swimming pools and West Lake and Grandpa's ice cream stash and so much more.   I remember Kris the way he was when we were kids.   I remember how devastated I was when we moved far apart.   And how great it was to talk to him as adults. 

I just can't grasp that he is gone.   I'm sure one day I'll look back this week and it will just be a memory. Life's funny like that.   But for today, I just want to remember.  And cherish.  And grieve.