Remembering a Brother

When I was 16 I lost one of the closest people in my life. At the age of 15 my cousin was murdered at point blank range when an altercation with another kid escalated out of control. Today he would have celebrated his 33rd birthday and I can’t help but wonder if his murderer, only a child at the time as well, ever thinks about the life that he took. I wonder if he is remorseful. I wonder if he ever thinks about the little girl who had to grow up without her father. I wonder if he ever asks himself “Was it really worth it?” Continue reading Remembering a Brother