A SavePoint I Do Not Want to Save

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living.” – Albus Dumbledore

The last few weeks have been rough on my family.

About a month ago my grandma passed away. She was one of those steady quiet presences, always observing and only speaking when her words where needed (something I need to practice). And just two days ago we lost my uncle, her son. It’s hard to see my family just beginning their healing and accepting life will go on without my grandma only to have to experience another death. What has me conflicted right now is the fact that although they just passed, I am still thinking of my cousin. I cannot even talk about my uncle without also thinking about my cousin, his son, who passed away about a year and a half ago.

That loss hit me in a way I wasn't expecting. He was my age. Death at that age does not feel like it belongs. It is unnatural, unfair, and it shatters the rules you think life is playing by.

Chasing Approval

Here is the part I have been focusing on the most. I always wanted my cousin to think I was cool. It sounds small, even childish, but it ran deep. He never knew it, but I shaped so much of myself around the hope that he would look at me as someone worth hanging out with. Not just because we were cousins or neighbors, but because he wanted to. The way I dress, my white on white shoes, and even my tattoos were usually in hopes that he would approve.

We lived next door to each other for about twenty years. Side note: growing up next door to your cousin is an absolute blast. He was not flashy. He did not have the fast car, the career, or the perfect life. He was steady, often just sitting in his garage with a drink in hand. But I wanted, even needed, his approval. Maybe it was about bridging the gap between who I thought I was and who I wanted to be. Maybe it was just the instinct of a younger cousin trying to impress an older one.

The Gaps

When he died, I realized how much of our identity gets tied up in the people whose approval we want. His passing forced me to accept the truth that no age is guaranteed. Health does not always fade slowly, sometimes it just drops before we have a chance to recognize it's fading.

When my grandma passed it felt different. It was expected, the natural order, the cycle we know is coming. Her rest was welcome after a long beautiful life. My cousin’s death was not. It still does not feel like it should have happened.

Stacking these losses together, my cousin, my grandma, my uncle, I keep circling back to what stays after the grief. To me, it’s not the big milestones that make me feel like they are missing at. It is the inside jokes, the stories only we knew, and certain music that now will always feel incomplete in a way.

Stories That Last

When I was younger, I would see photos of my parents with people I never met. They would tell me stories about who they were and how they use to be so close, but I could not really feel it because I did not know them. Now I realize one day I will be the one telling my kids about my grandma, my uncle, and my cousin.

I will tell them how I grew up next door to him, how we played video games together, got into fights, and shared a deep trust only cousins can. And just like me as a kid, they will not ever fully grasp it.

I fully realize this blog doesn’t fit into my SavePointDad “brand” buckets. I am literally rolling my eyes even calling it a “brand”. I just spent a few hours this week learning how to categorize my blogs. I decided to go with Gaming, Fitness, and Building SavePointDad. I had a blog ready to go already, but decided to hit pause on it. I felt like I needed to write a little about these chaotic thoughts that I did not plan for. This blog does not fit into any of these categories so I’m creating a new category: Life. A place for me to process the stuff that I did not see coming.

If I am being honest my cousin would probably laugh at me for writing this. He would say I was stuck on my nerd shit again, but I also know he would have read it or at the very least sit there while I read it to him.

Perspective

Grief sharpens perspective. Arguments, traffic, and minor inconveniences that usually get under my skin feel smaller. It reinforces that time is not as guaranteed as we pretend it is. When my cousin passed away, I got “Serius est quam cogitas” tattooed on my arm. It means, "It is later than you think."

I think a lot about legacy. Not the kind that ends up in history books, the reality is only a handful of people will have that kind of legacy. That does not make our lives any less important. To me, my grandma’s legacy was quiet strength. My uncle’s was kindness. My cousin’s was pride, the way he did not apologize for his choices and decisions. Those legacies do not fade.

Talking to My Kids

One of the hardest parts is explaining loss to my kids. How do you tell them that someone who was alive and present is gone forever? Kids see the world in absolutes, alive or dead, happy or sad, and grief does not fit in those boxes. My daughter sees the sadness my family is experiencing and wants to make it better. She wants to understand.

I keep it simple. I tell them who my grandma, my uncle, and my cousin were, and why they mattered. Thankfully she hasn’t asked me if I will die also one day. Honestly, I do not know how I will answer that yet.

Remember "Memento Mori"

This is not the kind of blog I expected to write. It does not have tips or neat conclusions. It is just me, at a SavePoint I did not plan for.

Writing this was not planned, but I needed it. I know it’s shorter than usual and jumps around a bit. That’s okay, I need to play with my kids a little extra this week.

If it connected with you, share it. As always feel free to share your thoughts, email me anytime at savepointdad@gmail.com.

-SavePointDad