We grew up together. Cousins, a curious mix of family and friends. If I’ve ever talked to you about cousins, you know I have twenty-five first cousins on my mom’s side of the family! I love sharing that fact.

This group was enveloping. Some older, some younger, and some the same age. We played hard and fought sometimes. Learned how to hold babies when a new cousin came along. The older ones served as built-in babysitters.

Now, we’re all grown up. We each took our own path. Don’t see each other often, maybe at a funeral or a rare holiday visit. But when one is sick, as is currently the case, or facing challenges, there is a flood of memories and emotions.

In those moments, I picture us as kids again. Running and playing with no thoughts of accidents, cancer, or death. But reality snaps me back with one look in the mirror. The truth is unavoidable. We are no longer kids.

That truth mixes with our history, leaving me grateful that we grew up together. Leaving me wanting to say, I love you.