Then I noticed a missed call from my sister at 9:45 a.m.
That was odd.
I called her back and got a heartbreaking jolt. My cousin had been murdered. He was 42. In the prime of his life. And as quiet as it's kept, he and his wife were going to be the basis for a romance I'd been thinking about writing. My plan had been to take them to dinner -- I was even going to let my cuz eat pork! If you know me, you know that's big. I wanted to know all about the beginning of this love story. I wanted to know what made their eyes sparkle when the look at each other. This was going to be the one time when I wasn't going to have to turn a real person into a villian in my book.
Last month, I attended their vow renewal ceremony. This month, I'm going to his funeral. It does not compute.
You know how you read a romance novel and the hero is always kissing the heroine's hand or holding her hand while they walk? Or have you ever read a dinner scene where he feeds her from his plate or wipes a smudge from her cheek? Yeah, that was my cousin and his wife. Not only was he a great husband, but he was a phenomenal father. My heart aches for my little cousin. I'm 36 and I don't understand this senseless act. How in the hell do you explain to a nine year old that some coward used a gun to take her daddy away?
It's hard for me to sit still and not think about him. It's hard to believe that a man who was so loved and loved so much is gone. I might play a tough girl on the Internet, but this right here has me ripped up. Not just for me, but my cousin's wife and kids. I'm praying for their strength and peace in this horrible time.