Memories of a cousin
~By Cindy

This is one of the rare pictures I have of my cousin Ryan... He's the second one on the front row. I'm the one standing up looking down at him. This picture was taken at a near by beach in my grandfather's house in the Philippines. The one next to him on the left is my cousin Oliver. They are brothers. The rest are my aunts and my uncle Conrad. The picture is small, but I want it that way... Whenever I look at this picture I think of those innocent times. I think I was around three here so I don't remember anything about it. Sometimes, I try to remember my cousin but I can't. It was just so long ago. I wish though that I do have a memory of him. My Mom told me that he and I were close and that he treated me like a sister and he used to call me "Nini" (that's a filipino phrase you use to call a female. Like an endearment... Sort of like a "-chan" in Japanese). Everyone called Ryan by his nickname of "Ian" and he was two years older than me and Oliver. And though Oliver and I are the same age, my Kuya Ian was the one I played with more. Everyone told me that he was very nice, very understanding and just full of life. He was the one that was more friendly and talkative unlike Oliver who was a silent person. Even now, Oliver is still like that. Although he is breaking his wall little by little. When their parents (my uncle and my aunt) divorced however, my aunt Olivia's family seperated my counsins from our family, and told them all kinds of stories about our family and that my uncle was no good (you know how that is. It's sort of like those soap operas). This happened when we were around 5 or so. That was the last time I was really able to talk to Kuya Ian and Oliver. The province where my grandfather lived was very small and sometimes I would see my cousins walking with their grandmother at the market and though I wanted to say hi to them and run up to them and hug them I couldn't. Kuya Ian was in a ballet class that was ahead of mine. One of the few memories I remember of him was in a ballet competition. He won first place and while he was standing on the podium while everyone took pictures of him, my mom told me to stand on the third podium and pretend to pose so she can take a picture of us "together" without really being "together"... The sad thing was, it was the first time I was really close to him in a year or so and I didn't even recognize him. And he didn't really awknowledge me. He just sort of stood there and looked at my mom. That's me up there in the red costume while my cousin is in the green outfit. About two years later, my family packed up to go to Wisconsin. My mom invited everyone over at my grandpa's house so she can take pictures of everyone before our flight left... To my surprise, Kuya Ian and Oliver came too so my mom took pictures of them with my Uncle... That was the last time I ever saw my cousin Ian. Seven years later, we had the chance to go back to the Philippines. I was very excited. I couldn't wait to see everyone again. My mom was very excited too. She told me that I can finally see all my cousins again and plenty of my aunts and uncles. She really wanted to see Kuya Ian and Oliver especially... My mom was happy because my cousins' family finally allowed our family to see them and talk to them. My cousin just turned 16 then and Oliver and I were fourteen. Two weeks before our flight however, my mom got a phone call from my Aunt Beth. I still remember by mom sounding so happy to hear her voice on the phone but seconds later... I heard her crying. She told me that my Kuya Ian died. She told me that it was because of a car accident. When we arrived at my grandfather's house, everyone was very happy to see us. There was a party every night it seemed and I got to see Oliver again. He was quiet like I remembered him and it took him a long time to even say "hello" to me. He was really tall and looked exactly like my Uncle. But then the subject came to Kuya Ian... My uncle showed me pictures of him when we were little and him when he was my age. Do you remember him? He asked me. But I shook my head. I told him that I remember just a little bit. He used to play with you. He was really excited to see you when he heard you were coming. He used to ask about you and Zusie... I didn't know what to say. It made me so sad just to hear my uncle say that. I wanted to see him too. When we got back to Wisconsin, I often thought about my cousin who everyone said was so special. I wondered what he was really like, what he would have said when we saw each other again. From the pictures my aunts gave me he was also tall. He looked like my aunt unlike Oliver who looked like my uncle. And he was cute. He had a nice smile... It took my mom a few years later to tell my sisters and I what really happened to my cousin. It's a dark subject. A sad subject. I never knew that it could ever happen to anyone I knew. Especially to someone that was in my family. You see, my cousin surrounded himself in this religious pact. He began to not act like himself. And there was this dark aura that always surrounding him. You can say that he was pocessed by the devil. His family tried to help him. My uncle tried to help him. And for that short while he really was getting better. He began to be himself again... but that aura came back to him. His family, for a last result, put him in a hospital so he can get better and so he can get that "aura" out of him. He got better but then when everything seemed to be fine, my cousin passed away. My mom, everyone, is really secretive about it still. They say he was in a hospital and then he died. Did he kill himself? Or did he just pass away in his sleep? Whenever I think about my cousins death, I feel lost. Like there's something missing in my heart. He was only 16. I still think about it sometimes... The one cousin that everyone loved, the favorite... it's hard to believe that it happened to him. My grandpa was very proud of him. My uncle always has this smile whenever he talked about him. I only wished that I knew him and remembered him like everyone remembers him. I wish I had a better memory of him. But you know... I think about it and know that my cousin is in a better place now. At least he doesn't have to suffer anymore and that God saved him and gave him a home. My aunts told me that even when my Aunt Libby's side of the family prohibited him to visit our family, he was still willing to go our Grandpa's house to visit. He wanted to visit. It just makes me sad to think about it. I used to think "if only things were different"... If only he didn't die. If only I was there a year earlier. If only this or that. But if I think like that, it wouldn't be right. You can't think of "If only's". "If only's" are just selfish excuses. I am not a religious person. But I do know that several times when you really do need God the most he's there. I never really believed that when I was younger but now I see it. And when there is sadness, there's always that sunlight in the end of it. Because of my cousin, my aunt and my uncle are talking and becoming closer again. Because of my cousin, Oliver is talking again and actually smiling and not so serious all the time and because of my cousin, it seems that everything is okay again. And in away that's exactly like what Kuya Ian would have wanted it to end up. For everything to be OK again. He was the kind of person that didn't want anyone to cry because of him... he'll rather see you smile instead. .... Back to Opinions ...