On Feb. 13, 2011 my cell phone went off at about 5 a.m. The only reason I answered was because it was my cousin Ray and he wouldn’t call at that hour if it weren’t something important. My gut instinct didn’t fail me. On the other end was the shaky, grief-filled voice telling me that my little cousin Josh, Ray’s brother, had died in a hitand- run. While the shock and disbelief of the news is a vivid memory that I leave locked away in the past, the pain of Josh being gone remains the same.
Josh loved the Dodgers as if he played with the team from the moment he picked up a baseball bat. It didn’t matter what Josh was doing, he refused to be average and brought his A-game to everything. That meant Ray had to bring his A-game, as did everyone around him. It was never a boring moment with Josh and his intensity for life was the love that everyone around him ever felt.
There are still moments when I cry in my room, or tear up in the car because of a fond memory set off by a random occurrence. There isn’t a family gathering where deep down inside I wish that he would walk through the door, smiling and laughing and ready to give everyone a hug. I wish I could walk into my aunt’s house and see him behind the stove making his spicy hot wings. I still wish he could challenge me to a foot race, or try to convince me to play baseball with the boys on Saturdays. I wish Josh could scold me one more time for smoking cigarettes; I wish he could lecture me one more time for not exercising right or eating healthy. More than anything, I simply wish I could hug him and tell him one more time that I love him.
February 13 brings the family together to celebrate the life of a son, baby cousin, brother, uncle and friend who was taken away too soon. We can’t predict when such tragedies will occur nor do we know when we are speaking to a loved one for the last time. So, if I hug and kiss my dad, or uncles and cousins and nephews or nieces, aunts or grandmas, or any of my friends, it’s not that I am clingy or needy. It is simply my way of reminding them that I love them. While Josh’s stay on this earth was brief, it was filled with the kind of love that can last a family for an entire lifetime.
I love you, Josh…I miss you, so much.
