The Brevity of Life

This time last week, I was wishing my cousin, Anna, a Happy Birthday when my dad walks into my office with an awful look on his face. He told me my other cousin (Anna's brother, Cody) had passed away. Immediately I felt a wave of pain. Not Cody. Not at 25 years old. Not on Anna's birthday.

While all of these thoughts were rushing through my mind, I literally could not move. I have experienced my fair share of death. Probably more than you would expect. From my great-grandfather, to my baby cousin, to a friend in high school, to a friend in college, to my uncle last year, and now Cody. I know what to do when someone you love passes away, I have been there all too many times. But this time was different. There was a sting. There was this wave of confusion. I couldn't believe it.

Cody and Anna were like the siblings I never had. They welcomed their little runt cousin in with open arms. Anna did my make up and hair. Cody taught me how to shoot a gun and wrestle. The memories I have with them are some of my favorite.

As I sat in the funeral yesterday, I was surrounded by family. Family that loves each other more than anything on Earth. 700 people went to Cody's visitation. I don't even think I know 700 people. I say that jokingly in a way, but also that speaks volumes to the kind of person he was. He was easily 6'6, weighing probably 300 pounds. He was a stout boy. But he was so gentle and kind. His love for life and his family were evident in everything he did. His hugs were my favorite. His laugh was contagious. We had the same argument every year about Grandma's strawberry cake and who got the left overs. He always let me win. He is the only one that still sits at the kid table with me. He had a heart of gold. I didn't get to see him all the time, but when I did-- it was like nothing ever changed.

The officiant for the funeral read the Dash Poem. He talked about the life in between the birth and death are what matters. And Cody's dash mattered. I thought the whole way home about what my dash would like. I think it's natural to think those things.

When I got out of the funeral, and looked at my phone, I was flooded with thoughtful text messages-- some even as simple as someone saying they are thinking of the family. Even though I could type all day long about how much that meant to me, I will never be able to fully express my gratitude. And it hit me. Life isn't about the people that hurt you, or aren't there when you need them the most. It's not about the drama, the bad days, and the struggles we have. It's not about the friend that doesn't care, or the person that is mean. It isn't about the money, or the house, or the life status, or the fancy things. Life is about making people feel loved, regardless of how you feel in that moment. That is something that Cody always did. No matter what was going on in his life, he was determined to make you feel like you were his best friend, and he did it in the most genuine way. That is the kind of person I want to be. Life is so short. And sometimes, it is really messy and unfair. But at the end of the day, loving people is all that matters.