Having cousins your age can remind you of the strength/ power of family.

Cousins... for me, coming from devout Catholic grandparents on my mom and dad’s side. I have well over 30 first cousins, but I was lucky to be in the same age range as a handful of them. I remember thinking that nobody was allowed to poke fun at my parents, but my siblings and cousins when we were kids, looking out the windows at our grandparents' house and waiting for my aunt and uncle to pull up, and my cousins got out! Hooray! We get to share a room for a few days, and our parents are completely fine with us ignoring them. Seeing different sides of my sibling that only my cousins could bring out. The clique you’re born into, your place in it is your birthright. Plus, your parents love them, like for real.

But time goes on, and family ages, and staying in touch is doable, but a confusing yarn map you and your family can only understand. Nobody is giving anyone 30 first cousins anymore.

My father, who is failing in health and 2000 miles away, asked me to make a very doable 150-mile drive over this weekend to represent him because his brother, my uncle, is dying and going fast. Of course, I will go. Throw my grandma’s rosary, a change of clothes, and grab a nice bottle of red from the rack in a bag, and get on the road. My dad needs me to be there. My cousins must be hurting, I think.

I hope I’m not overstepping, and I texted my cousins. I was on my way to the hospital when my dad asked me to go. In under 3 hours, I’m pulling into the hospital. And the room number is in the texts.

It’s the ICU, and only family is allowed. Well, I share the same last name as my uncle, so family, I am, and allowed into the ICU to say my goodbyes, and I hear the nurse say to the family on an intercom-like thing, " Your cousin is here. " Remember, only two are allowed in at a time, and you have three. (My two cousins and their mom) Both my cousins run out of the room, and we instantly embrace, not wanting to let go. They tell me to go in, and I see my dying uncle attempt a smile and say, "You look so much like your mom." My uncle’s wife cries, and my uncle grabs my hand. I see my cousins through that sad ICU window, holding each other, but overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions.

I feel my grandfather's love, my dad’s love, my uncle's love, and my cousin's love as I sat there holding his frail hand. This is family, I think to myself. I sit in the waiting room after that and help my cousins with their kids, and their kids, as everyone goes in and out two at a time to say their goodbyes. It felt so natural yet morbid.

My uncle is with god now, and I thought to myself, "It’s like the obituaries." He died surrounded by family. I stay and make sure my uncle’s wife (my aunt) and my cousins are okay as well as they can be. We are all crying.

My cousin closest to me in age is asleep near my lap, I slowly moved my hand off her head and now typing these feelings in the abyss and the nice bottle of red is near empty as we lay here in my hotel room.

How bittersweet today is. RIP, my dear uncle.