The bent and broken yellow grass,

Constantly being suffocated by people’s shoes
Crunched as we swayed back and forth
In the state fair parking lot,

As my family and I took in the devastating news
A single phone call gave.

Mitchell died.

Suddenly the tilt-a-whirl and ferris wheel
Didn’t sound too appealing.
My cousin had just died!

At only 5 years old, this was the first
Family death I had ever experienced,
So I wasn’t sure what to feel.

On that solemn Monday morning,
Just outside the looming entrance gates,
I didn’t shed a tear.
I didn’t even get choked up.

Because I hadn’t known Mitchell that well.
Only seeing each other at family gatherings

On the rare occasions that my cousin
Comes to mind, I think about how
He passed…

A warm, starry summer night
Playing in a sand pit in his backyard,
Building sandcastles, digging holes, and making tunnels.
Tunnels.

That’s what killed him.

It was hard to believe then,
And it’s still hard to believe now.

I hadn’t talked to him much before,
I still don’t really remember him,
But when I see a sand box,
Our Christmas ornament remembering 9 year old Mitchell,
Or the state fair parking lot,
I remember my cousin.

Although I only saw him a few times,
It’s hard to forget family,
Even if all we exchanged was a smile.