A Memory

So, without going too deeply down the road of emotions (if that's possible), today is the 6 month marker of the day my cousin Lynn passed away. For some reason, no matter how hard I have tried to sort of...be careful with how much I allow myself to think of that and miss him, it continues to be a present thought. Partially because I adore and admire his siblings, my cousins, very much. :) Partially because I adored and admired him so much growing up, and used his influence in a lot of what I decided to do with my life (and continue to, of course).

I try not to think of and describe him as something "tragic", though it's always hard not to focus on the pain of loss too young. When I think of how Lynn used to explain away loss, death, and fear to me -- I remember it being with a certain kind of simplicity that infuriated me, because I liked to complicate everything growing up. For Lynn it was very simple: God had a plan. He was going to follow that plan. Therefore, life was sweet and there was nothing to fear.

We used to fight all the time growing up. Correction: I used to get angry at Lynn and my sister Kate, while HE would stand by and "chortle" (his word!) at my frustration. Kate, my sister, would join him in pointing and laughing while I stomped my feet and huffed and puffed, and eventually I would be forced to stop my pouting because they would win me back over or my Aunt Cyndi would insist I stop the fuss.

I always wanted to be included in everything Lynn and Kate would do when our families would visit. I was the dreaded MIDDLE CHILD of the family. The tree went (in oldest to youngest): Benjamin, Lynn, Katie, ME, Kaia, Allison, and then Tom. Tom, Kaia and Allison would have their playtime, Ben, Lynn and Katie would have theirs. So I was smack dab in the middle wanting to be like the cool older cousins and generally failing and making a spectacle of myself. Lynn was hilarious, always coming up with alter-egos like "Mortimer Snerd", a nerdy personality he'd put on that made me laugh for hours and demand for more. He'd crack himself up with foreign languages. He and Katie once gave Mom a heart attack while she was driving by screaming for her to "LOOK OUT!!!" in the middle of the road. I can still hear their laughter like it was yesterday.

One of my favorite memories, that I keep thinking back on today to laugh, was when we were all in Delaware visiting our Erskine family and we'd been on the beach a lot. I had sunburned my nose, which looked hilarious to Lynn and the entire week he kept tweaking it and yelling "JuJu's NOSE!" which, because I was a sensitive 14 year old, made me angry and annoyed every time. We went to the outlet mall one day when it was rainy out, and while our parents went to shop on their own, Lynn insisted that we go to "Socks Galore", thoroughly delighted by the title and the theme.

"We can't go to the outlet mall without going to SOCKS GALORE!!" he shouted and then charged to the store ahead of us (or, probably, silly walked since we had watched about 8 hrs worth of Monty Python that week). I ran behind and grumpily tagged along throughout the store, bored by all the socks. Lynn was excited about the argyle socks and was piling his arms up with them when he noticed I was pouting (still). "Jujuuuuu!" he yelled and then tweaked my nose particularly hard, causing it to bleed. (I won't get too graphic, I promise).

In my memory, Lynn threw his socks in the air and shouted "OH NOOO!!! NOT YOUR NOSE!! I MADE YOUR NOSE BLEED IN SOCKS GALOOORE!!!" And then insisted I buy new SOCKS, IMMEDIATELY!!

I just remember him telling my Mom, in this high incredulous voice, "Aunt STARR!! I made Juju's nose bleed in SOCKS GALORE!! It's all my fault!!" And she, always on his side, started to laugh. Eventually, so did I. The truth is, I don't honestly think I was ever for a minute actually mad at Lynn growing up, but I always wanted more time with him.

My hope, as I consider all of these memories and laugh, (and cry, and pout), and miss him so much... is that he knew in our last messages to each other long distance how much all of our memories always meant to me. I'm sure he did, and of course I always hope that my cousins know that I can recount all the same kinds of memories for each of them, with deep descriptions of why I wanted to spend time with all of them too growing up. I was "middle child", worried about being left out, and very sensitive. I loved my time with all of them, and always (still) want more.

Here's to the memories we want more of, and the memories we will make in the future, still loving and including Lynn no matter how much time passes by.

Lynn, always mischievous, either peace-signing or giving me bunny ears when we were kids. (Probably the latter.)