Backstory:
Last week one of my many cousins passed away, I have about 50. Tom was a great guy. When we were young, we were very close. Tom and I were born a month apart, so he was 78; he led a full life that included multiple wives, one at a time, and children. We went to the same Middle School, and he was my protector; no one messed with this geeky glasses-wearing nerd. Plus, all the girls wanted to be my friend, once they found out handsome Tom was my cousin. Tom survived polio as a child and was an athlete in his teens, a baseball player. He was scouted by MLB, but it didn't work out. As we aged we drifted apart, but both of us knew we'd always have each other. His parents weren't the best, so he made sure his younger brother and sister got their college educations. His brother is a "rocket scientist" and his sister is an educator. A direct quote from his brother, "He hung the moon for us".
Last Night:
I got a phone call from my sister, who lives in Oregon. She wanted to know Tom's cause of death! When I told her that I didn't know, she was incredulous. She kept going on about how close Tom and I were and that I should know this information. I assured her that I didn't. I told her that I'm sure his wife, brother, and sister probably know, but I don't. She went on and on until she finally gave up!
There was a recent meme on FB reposted by one of my friends "Sometimes talking to your Sister is all the Therapy you need". I replied "....not my sister!" Now, you know why.
Thanks for stopping by and sharing my life with me,
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