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The Ties that Bind

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Today I attended a gathering in memory of my cousin Luke, who would have turned 40 today had he still been alive. He passed away at the age of 13.

I was 8 months younger than Luke, so I was only a child myself when he died. I have very few clear memories of him – a vague image of him relaxing in a beanbag at a family party not long before he died, various images of him having handfuls of tablets at mealtimes and percussion treatment for his cystic fibrosis and one clear memory of the two of us playing Uno at his home, abandoning the number cards and trying to outplay each other using only the skip, reverse, draw two and wild cards.

Attending a memorial gathering for someone you barely remember is odd, to say the least. I also only knew a handful of people there, adding to the overall feeling of disconnection. My parents and sisters were unable to attend for a variety of reasons, so apart from Luke’s parents and sister, three aunts, two uncles and three cousins, I was in a room full of strangers with our only common ground being memories of a young boy I could barely recall.

I’ve spent three hours this evening trying to write this blog, trying to capture my reluctance to attend today and the reasons why I’m glad that I did. I’ve typed and deleted and typed again, trying to find words that convey my sense of awkwardness without judging what my aunt and uncle felt they needed to do to celebrate the life of a child that they got to cherish for such a tragically short time.

And now, at one o’clock in the morning, with drooping eyelids and fingers fumbling over the keyboard, I’m left with one clear image from this afternoon. When I arrived, my uncle greeted me, held me close and thanked me for being there. He held on to me and hugged me tight and I felt like it mattered to him that I was there. We stood together for a few moments, with his arm firmly around my waist and I have to wonder what it has been like for him to watch me grow up, knowing that his son would have been my age. How my milestones and achievements might have highlighted for him all that his son missed out on.

As my uncle held on to me and leaned against me, I was reminded that today wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about what I felt for Luke or whether I even remembered him. Today was an opportunity for me to show my aunt and uncle that their feelings matter to me.

Today I reached that point when the older family members who have previously cared for me and sheltered me are now the ones in need of strength and support. I haven’t been a child for some time, but I’m one of the younger cousins of my generation and there has never been any real reason for me to mentally readjust my status from child to adult when relating with my extended family. Today, I feel proud that I stepped up to the challenge and I feel humbled and incredibly touched that my uncle allowed me to be there for him.

Today didn’t bring me closer to Luke, but it did help me feel closer to my aunt and uncle. I hope that they were comforted and blessed by those who attended their remembrance afternoon for their son.


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