I know a little angel whose birthday it is today. When you turn 13 years old, you're expected to be going from boy to teenager. Your voice is expected to start changing. Your facial hair is supposed to start growing. You're not expected to be dead.
But if I've learned anything so far in life, it's that nothing is ever as expected.
That little angel is my cousin, Philippe. He was born on May 26th, 1998, when I was 13 years old, and even then, he already looked like an angel. The type of cherub whose blondish hair say one thing and mischievous eyes say another. And those eyes, they were open to the world. Very young, he could see through anyone, and ask the right questions. I remember when he was four years old, and he saw me sad one day, and he asked me if it was because I missed my mother. A four year old boy could see my sadness better than anyone else around me. That's the type of boy he was.
You'd think a boy at 10 or 11 would be shy around girls. But not Philippe. He had them lined up, girls of all ages, and had flirtatious lines for anyone and everyone. "You've become so beautiful I didn't even recognize you!" he once said to a fifty year old friend of the family. She smiled and giggled and he had her under his spell in half a second. And he had that magical power with everyone.
He died on July 31st 2009, in a tragic, horrendous accident, that had the entire country talking. But I wont tell that story, because he shouldn't be remembered for the way he died. He should be remembered for the way he lived.
And what I learned from his life, is that sometimes eleven years can be more meaningful than a hundred. And even in his death, his presence is felt every day. I know this because I see his family, his mother, his father, his two older sisters, who are able to talk about him and smile. Who have the strength, despite what they've been through, to turn the tragic into a positive power, to take Philippe's memory and make it enduring, everlasting and immortal.
What I learned is that life is fragile. That in a split second, you're here and then you're not. The only thing you can do about it is decide how the memory of you will go on.
But if I've learned anything so far in life, it's that nothing is ever as expected.
That little angel is my cousin, Philippe. He was born on May 26th, 1998, when I was 13 years old, and even then, he already looked like an angel. The type of cherub whose blondish hair say one thing and mischievous eyes say another. And those eyes, they were open to the world. Very young, he could see through anyone, and ask the right questions. I remember when he was four years old, and he saw me sad one day, and he asked me if it was because I missed my mother. A four year old boy could see my sadness better than anyone else around me. That's the type of boy he was.
You'd think a boy at 10 or 11 would be shy around girls. But not Philippe. He had them lined up, girls of all ages, and had flirtatious lines for anyone and everyone. "You've become so beautiful I didn't even recognize you!" he once said to a fifty year old friend of the family. She smiled and giggled and he had her under his spell in half a second. And he had that magical power with everyone.
He died on July 31st 2009, in a tragic, horrendous accident, that had the entire country talking. But I wont tell that story, because he shouldn't be remembered for the way he died. He should be remembered for the way he lived.
And what I learned from his life, is that sometimes eleven years can be more meaningful than a hundred. And even in his death, his presence is felt every day. I know this because I see his family, his mother, his father, his two older sisters, who are able to talk about him and smile. Who have the strength, despite what they've been through, to turn the tragic into a positive power, to take Philippe's memory and make it enduring, everlasting and immortal.
What I learned is that life is fragile. That in a split second, you're here and then you're not. The only thing you can do about it is decide how the memory of you will go on.
Thank you Yas for every word you wrote about our Pipo .. Don't forget he is reading us .. his email was premonotiously pipo@sky.net !
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