Saturday, January 13, 2007

Larger Than Life: A Tribute

I interrupt my regularly scheduled award post in order to say something else. Something more important is on my mind right now.

Sad news came my way yesterday. My cousin B. passed away. He had non-Hodgekins lymphoma. He fought it for about two years if memory serves me. Now he's gone. And I never got to say goodbye to him. But that's not the point. He was survived by his wife and two children. I hope you will offer a prayer for their comfort, I know I will.

My cousin was the one person I have ever known whom I believed to be invincible. I figured I would go before he did. He was the type of person who walks into a room and everyone is automatically drawn to him. Even if they did not know him. That's just who he was. He did not try to be the center of attention or anything. But he was so steady, caring and funny that you could not help but like him and gravitate toward his conversation. The best, the only way to describe B was that he was larger than life. He stood out from the crowd for all the right reasons.

My cousin was a cop and a youth pastor. I know, those two jobs go together, hand in glove. Um, yeah. He was always very good with kids. Kids of all ages. He could make them comfortable and have fun with them. In his thirties he still did not seem awkward around kids. It was like he was a kid. He just fit right in with kids. I mean, some people when they get to their thirties they have that kiddie voice. You remember that voice. It was like they thought kids were too stupid to realize it was a kiddie voice. B never did that. Never. He was just himself. He would laugh and make a joke and his jokes were always funny. He did not try to be cool around kids, because kids just knew he was cool being himself.

B was a role model. When I grow up I want to be just like him. He put his beliefs and ideals before everything. He told the gospel wherever he went. I remember his wedding very clearly. The ceremony lasted for two agonizing hours because he could not stop telling the gospel. It was not the best experience of my life, but I will always remember it with a laugh now. He had a real heart for evangelizing. At the same time he was not annoying about it. You wanted to listen to him tell the gospel. More than that, you wanted to go to the heaven that he has already gone to.

I will miss you B. More than anything. I wish I was half the person you were. I am glad you're not in pain anymore.


little-cicero said...

Oh, now I understand what you said at my blog.

I can't imagine how I would feel if one of my cousins died. I have such close bonds with all of them- I just found this recently when one of my cousins went to jail for DUI. As much as you take them for granted, when they finally leave it really brings out the Sartre in you.

Gino said...

a lovely tribute, esther.

my condolences on your loss.

Xana Ender said...

I am grieving with you.