Gone too soon little man

They say the idea is to die young as late as possible but little man you left us too early. As I sit back and reminisce on the good old times that we shared. The many times I made you laugh, the many times you wanted to say something but the words couldn’t come out, the many times you wanted to ask me for my name, who I am, and why I keep coming to see you every Thanksgiving. Truth be told, I wanted you to talk to me. Sometimes I needed you to say something, to let me know if you’re enjoying my visit or if you like the books that I try to read to you. Sometimes I wondered if you could feel my love, my touch, my reason for being with you. So it’s November again and I am making plans to come back to Beantown to see you. I wanted to bring you something special this year, so I have been racking my brain trying to find the perfect gift for a little man who is unable to speak, unable to walk on his own, and have never lived at home. I must admit, this year has been tough for me but given that it’s our annual date, I wasn’t going to miss it kid.

My heart stopped when my uncle told me you were gone. It took me a few minutes to really put that into perspective. Everyone is shocked kid. I thought this final surgery would have set you free; you would have been able to come to FL and hang out with your big cousin. We would have had mad fun. I bet you would have wanted to stay with me for good, you would have loved them Florida girls kid. Now, I must retract and fly to Boston to pay my respect, to say good bye to a friend, to an amigo who has never said a word to me. No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow and so I guess if I make it to the weekend we will see each other for one last time.

Hope you know that I will still keep my end of the bargain; I will be in Boston every thanksgiving. Max, Didi, and Leon are going to miss you. Hope you know they talked about you all the time. Whenever I checked in with them, they always had a story to tell. You were loved my dear cousin, you will always be loved, and I will never forget you. Our relationship was special and you will always be special to me. Your father asked me to give the eulogy, truthfully kid, I don’t know what to say. I guess you would want me to speak from the heart, right? I will do my best; I will share our story with the people. A story that started with the “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”, I still remember how you were moved by the pictures. I am going to miss you kid. I know the pain is over, 12 long years with the same old stuff. I love you Dan.
In the words of Marcus Aurelius, “Death is a release from the impressions of sense, and from impulses that make us their puppets, from the vagaries of the mind, and the hard service of the flesh.”

R.I.P. Daniel Mascary