“I love this crazy tragic,â€?
“ Sometimes almost magic,â€?
“ Sad and beautiful life.â€?

I don’t remember where I heard this. Maybe it was a poem I read, or a song I heard. It was stuck in the back of my head the whole time during my cousin’s wake. My cousin, Katharine, was severely disabled. It was a miracle she lived ‘til nine was what the doctors told us. My whole family flew down to Georgia when we heard of her death. Mom, Dad, Timmy, and I stayed with my Uncle Tommy and his family for the weekend. 
The day of the funeral I don’t remember much just that it took so long for everyone to get to the wake; and when we finally did, my little cousins, Collin and Caroline, were boisterous and noisy. I had to play with them the whole time to keep them entertained, and to keep me occupied as well. I knew that if I stopped to think for just a few minutes I would break down and cry. I knew I had to keep going. Despite the sadness and the craziness I had fun. I felt a little guilty. 
 “I love this crazy tragic,â€?