As a young boy, My mother would often remind me; “we preach our own eulogies everyday, by the way we choose to live.” A good life leaves very little to be said at the end. I’ve been to many funerals, though I can not recall the words that were spoken — I do remember the lives that were lived.
Ricky’s life was one of the most inspiring eulogies I’ve ever observed.
In my ear, I can vaguely hear his voice; “ hurry up, keep it short cousin, your gonna f@ck-up my life’s work with your words.”
So I’ll be brief.
I was fortunate to have had a cousin as my closest friend. He was a socially irresistible guy. I was always challenged by his way of dealing with people. He had a way of being comfortable and making others feel the same. A confidence I’ve always admired.
He was consistent. I’m sure we each have our own versions of Ricky, but If we were to compare them, I believe they would all look surprisingly the same.
Ricky was a practical man. He required things to make sense, and have a useful application.
He was among the most reasonable people I’ve ever known, and I loved him dearly!
COUSIN
Cousin Ricky, how can I write you? you have left us – and I find you to be most difficult to describe.
what words can I use, or language to symbolize my feelings. It seems that feelings are all there is, in silence – they have no use.
the most magnificent sound ever whispered, seems to linger, like the last of fall’s golden leaves, reflecting the radiance of the sun.
knowing you has been the pleasure of my life.
the wonder of you was not in the doing, nor the learning we shared – your being was bountiful.
there was but a single existence between us – and still. for what was will forever be, and the glee of your memory is the vision forward. https://youtu.be/YwLgxyVjwk4
by K. Osei
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