Someone from my graduating class died last night. Overdosed.
He is the second one in the past few months. One of a handful from that class of 2005. Every single time I learn of one, it takes me back to that spring.
We had just gotten back from Puerto Plata, a spring break trip full of laughs and sun and fun. Like Spring Breaks are supposed to be. My mom answered the ringing phone that morning in no way expecting what she was about to be told. My cousin, Jay, was in the hospital on life support. My cousin who was just eight months older than me.
He had overdosed. I don't know what he mixed and it really doesn't matter now. The point is he overdosed and ultimately his parents, my aunt and uncle, had to make the decision a few days later to remove him from life support.
We were a family of seven cousins, now there are just six of us. We don't have the jokester anymore. Every holiday is missing that spunk he had. Every get together is full of a lot less laughs. Every picture is missing my 1987 counterpart.
It makes me so sad. It's not the tragic unexpected accident, like a car crash or a murder. The kind of accident you can be angry at someone else, have someone to blame. It's a tragic unexpected accident in a category all it's own.
I just think of the life I have ahead of me and it makes me so sad that they cut theirs short. That their family and friends and kids don't have all those years ahead to spend with them.
We miss you Jay. And to everyone else who has dealt with the same thing, my heart is with you today, and every other day.