A lovely tribute to a beloved cousin as shared in the latest Writing Through Grief workshop . . .

Yesterday I lost my cousin Jeff. He was only 57. He left behind no one but my dad, a couple of my siblings and myself. There will be no fanfare, no obituary, funeral or flowers. But there will be memories of how his life intertwined with mine.

He and I were born a mere 26 days apart and he was my only cousin remotely close to my age. Given away by his birth parents then given up on by his adoptive parents he was tossed into the system and eventually ended up on the streets, before he could even shave. My parents tried to get custody when he was 14 but were denied.