There are certain people in your life who will always have this larger than life presence. Either by their personality, or their actions, they just stand out. My cousin Marcus has always been that to me. He has always been someone I've looked up to and admired, and his image has never been tarnished in my mind.
I can remember the first time I met him. I was three and he was this cool-looking eighteen-year-old ski guy and I couldn't believe I was related to him. I kept pestering him and playing with him. He was very cool about having to entertain a three year-old and from then on he had idol-like status in my mind. Flash-forward, past his olympic ski-jumping career (although that only fueled the fire of my adoration) to my first trip to Australia. I was seventeen, still impressionable, definately very naive, and Marcus gave me my first taste of city night life, dragging me out to the clubs of Melbourne with his friends (who wore snakeskin pants, which, whoa), passing me off as eighteen (I didn't even get carded!) and buying me mimosas(I think). I was trying to pass off as mature and Marcus let me actually believe I was, further cementing his larger than life status in my head.
He's the guy I bragged about: 'Yeah, my cousin in Australia has his own TV program. He used to be an Olympic Ski-jumper. He's so awesome.' He's the guy I think fondly on, and sometimes envy: 'Dude gets to go to Tahoe and write it off for work. So jealous." The kid in me, who he's never let down, believes he could maybe, possibly, walk on water someday. I wouldn't put it past him.
My mom told me that he put on the rosary I made for him and hasn't taken it off. He keeps it hidden underneath his shirt, but wears it all the time. I cried. It was sincerely the most touching thing he could've ever done for me, although he probably doesn't know it. I just figured he'd think it was a touching gesture and would put it away in a box somewhere. I don't know why, but I didn't think he'd be that into it. 'It's Marcus. He's too cool for that.' I thought. To think about him wearing the rosary everyday, that it means that much to him... it just makes me emotional. It's hard to put into words how it's effected me. I feel like that three year-old looking up at him again.
Thanks Marcus. You don't know how much that simple gesture means to me.
I wrote the above piece a few days after we lost Lisa because I found out Marcus put on the rosary I made for him and hasn't taken it off. I've let this little post sit for some time because I guess I felt it didn't need to be said, I don't know. But I think I still need to get it out there. Since I wrote it (but I hadn't posted it) Marcus wrote me to thank me for the necklace and to let me know that he had attached an L to the necklace, so that he would have his mother and his sister with him always. I just wanted to let him know that it meant alot to me. I hope this post conveys the point.