My cousin Matt died last Saturday. He is the first in this generation of my family to pass away, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it all week.
I looked up to Matt when I was young. His mother and my mother shared a bond closer than any of my other four aunts and uncles and, consequently, I saw him and his brothers more often than my other cousins.
Matt was a few years older than me and always epitomized what it meant to be cool in my formative years. He had wonderful, shaggy locks of dark brown hair and an easy-going attitude.
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