by Jessica
Blue eyes, round in shape, kind eyes, a feeling of tenderness, of a soul oceans deep. Alexis brought so much joy to our family. She was my first cousin, with an age gap of 15 years between us. To my siblings and I, she was our younger sister. She loved adventure and nature, and fluttering butterflies captured her attention.
Each spring, we spent time with Alexis in Florida; her arrival in the fall season shifted our spring breaks, our Easter celebrations. I would carry her on my shoulders when we were out together, snapping photos of her heart-shaped face and warm eyes. Any time Alexis would talk in her tiny toddler voice as she strung sentences together, we were in awe. “Little Robert” she would call my younger brother. Alexis loved her dad, her mom, her baby sister. She loved us.
One snowy evening in mid-January, my family and I learned that Alexis suddenly died. When my mom shared the news, I shrieked fearfully, in terror, in shock of the words. I began to cry…I thought, was she sick? I felt confused, I felt unsafe.
I was a freshman in college, and my roommates were just steps away in the adjoining room. Did they hear me? I didn’t care if they did. I needed to move quickly.
“Your younger siblings don’t know yet, they are asleep in the car,” my mom pleaded. “Please don’t tell them yet.”
As I got in the car, I felt overwhelmed. The car heat felt like it was on the highest speed, my coat, my belongings, and the family members around me. I felt choked, like I couldn’t breathe. So many emotions and thoughts ran through me. The car ride to Florida would be long…how much longer would I have to be quiet in this small space?
Being Expected to Resume “Normal” Life While Grieving My Cousin
After Alexis’ funeral, I returned back to campus, to the dorm where I originally received the news. I remember the fluorescent bulbs above me, the loneliness in my grief that I felt now that I was back at school, away from my family who loved Alexis the way I did.
“How was your birthday?” my friend asked. “Did you do anything fun?” My 19th birthday came and went the day before the funeral service.
“No,” I said… “My cousin died, she was only 3 years old.”
I felt bad to let my friend down, to not share some elaborate story of a fun night out. I also felt that my friend didn’t know what to say. What could someone say when the unexpected happens? No warning, no negotiating, it just happened.
I wanted to call my grandmother. I felt this feeling of anger, like it was slowly pressing on my chest. Like I could hardly breathe, I couldn’t contain it much longer.
My grandmother answered the call as she always does. She listened with compassion and grace as I asked…”Why did my great-grandmother get to live till 90 years old, but Alexis had to die at age 3?”
I don’t understand it. How could two souls, both tender and loving…have two different lifespans? Didn’t Alexis’ life matter? Didn’t our love for her mean anything?
During my grief, the anger and negotiating thoughts persisted, especially when I would compare someone’s fairness, fortune, or long life to Alexis. If Alexis couldn’t live till the age of 90…could she have at least lived for half the amount of time? It’s all so unfair that she wasn’t given that opportunity.
Honoring Alexis’s Life
Time continued on as it does, whether I was ready for it or not. The grief, the emptiness of losing her, somehow became a part of me as I learned to grow around it. I took time to remember her on her birthday, and I would look for new details of her in a photo that I hadn’t recognized before.
Each year in late October, I created an “ofrenda” which is an altar to honor her soul. I include her photo and an image of a monarch butterfly that reminded me of her. Whenever I see a butterfly, I am reminded of her innocence and curiosity. Her parents released butterflies in her honor, a symbol of transformation.
Looking For The Signs While Grieving
At the birth of my first daughter, I woke up in the intensive care unit. I heard my brother’s voice, the same person who Alexis adored so much. I learned that I went into cardiac arrest, the same event that took our Alexis’ life. Only, I survived.
Later that day, my brother told me that as he waited in the lobby to see me, a tap at the window caught his attention; a butterfly. He immediately thought of Alexis. My daughter’s nurse came to visit me after her shift ended. She hugged me, and her warm blue eyes brought a feeling of comfort over me. I glanced over at her name tag, which read - Alexis. Was my baby cousin with me all along?
I share this story with my family, and now I share it with all of you. As grief remains a part of us, we keep our loved one’s memory alive, creating moments in their honor. I can’t prove where our loved ones go after this life, but I know our love for them never ends. I will always keep an open mind and an open heart to how they may find their way to us, maybe in ways we never imagined.
Contact Georgia-based organization Kate’s Club for support through cousin loss or grieving a cousin
Kate’s Club empowers children and teens, their families, and young adults facing life after the death of a parent, sibling, caregiver or someone important to them. The organization builds healing communities through recreational and therapeutic group programs, education and advocacy. Since its founding in metro Atlanta in 2003, Kate’s Club has served thousands of individuals who are grieving, through both member and outreach services. Kate's Club offers services in Metro Atlanta, Southwest Georgia, Northeast Georgia and Coastal Georgia.