Now, I really don't like to be serious (I MEAN REALLY DO NOT LIKE IT AT ALL. I find it extremely challenging) But there is one subject I want to lay out here.
Now, growing up, I was part of a very close Irish Catholic family. I have 11 cousins on my mom's side, and we're all so close they might as well be brothers and sisters. We would always go see each other on long weekends, and stay for a week at a beach cabin in Narragansett Rhode Island.
Now the cousins I was closest with were my older cousins - Sara, Pete and Pat. Pete is quite older than me, Sara is a little older, and Pat is only 3 years older than me. Needless to say, I looked up to them, and I still do. I wanted to be just like my cousins when I was older, and they loved me and my sister a lot too.
But, as we got older, we started to see each other less and less (as the teen years go- we often become quite egocentric) and I lost touch with them, since they were in high school and college whereas I was in middle school.
I grew up very happy, carefree, never having experienced death. I was a very lucky kid.
But then 2 years ago, on September 16th 2008, Pat died. He was 19 years old.
I was devastated. Everything I thought I knew was ripped apart. I felt like my heart had been torn out of my body. I was so guilt striken, that I had lost touch with him, that I had never had a chance to see him one last time, it quite nearly tore me into pieces. It was really hard to handle- there was no explanation, no meaning to his death. One day he just went to sleep and wouldn't wake up.
My first death, so needless, so young- I was ripped apart. And no one could understand. He had loved life so much- been so carefree, so loving, so excited for life. He was a photography major at the Art Institute of Boston, and has taken some of the most beautiful photographs I have ever seen.
Fast forward 7 months later. It's April, and some of Pat's photos had been published in a magazine his college puts out. It was overwhelming, that he would never see this honor, and it broke my heart again. I was sitting outside crying like I was back at the wake, telling my best friend how much I wished I could have a sign that he was okay and watching over me.
Not 3 minutes later, in the evening sky, A "P" formed out of clouds was right above my house.
Now, you maybe not believe in what I believe, but that turned me 360 degrees around. I was able to stop being sad all the time, and look forward to my life. And althought I still miss him every day, It is unbelivably comforting to know that there's someone out there who's watching over me and always got my back.
Today is Pat's brithday. He would be 21.
Please, learn from my story. Reach out to those around you- make sure they know you love them. Because you never know when they'll be gone. Life is beautiful. Never forget that.
Love and miss you forever Pat. May you rest in peace. <3
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