My Cousing and Best Friend David, A very personal Memorial Day message.

After years of lurking and recently watching the acrimony taking over this site, I decided to write about the veteran that had a large impact in the course of my life and one lesson I have learned because of it.  This is my first diary - so please be kind.  I realize it is rambling, but I hope you will read to the end. 

David was my cousin and in many, many ways much more.  He was born in 1960 and lived across the street from me.  I was born in 1961.  My sister and his brother came along 1 and 2 years later.  We lived in a rural area outside a town of under 2000 people.  We all played together - along with other neighborhood kids.  Our families traveled together regularly.  We were close. My first recollection of how close was when I was about 6 years old.  I had put toothpicks in the speaker of our television - ruining the audio.  I was given a choice of punishments - 'the belt' (hey, it was the mid 60's) or 2 weeks that I couldn't play with my cousin David.  Easy decision for me — I took the belt.

In high school,  I got him a job at the convenience store I worked at.  When he graduated, we went to several parties that night.  He went on to work for a construction company and bought a 1978 Mustang II.  He was very proud of it and drove it over to our home to show it to me - or so I thought.  We had a circular driveway - but instead  of parking so he could drive straight out, he drove right up to the garage door.  He asked if I wanted to drive it - of course I did.  We got in, I started it up and put the manual transmission in reverse.  Started to back up and he said STOP!  I asked what was wrong and he told me to show him how I did that.  I wasn't sure what he was talking about.  He said, "How did you get it in reverse?"  I showed him the 'trick' - you need to push the shift knob in and then move it to reverse.  He then proceeded to tell me how the first place he went was a local restaurant and when he went to leave he couldn't get it in reverse.  He ended up putting it in neutral and pushing it out of the space.  We had a pretty good laugh about that.

A few years later he got married.  I was honored to be his best man.  He joined the Marines and ended up stationed near Oceanside, CA.  On his visits back home we would first have to get him to stop calling me "Sir, Yes Sir". After that we could go and do something fun - paintball being a favorite of his.  (Of course I could have just run through the woods with a target on my back - I was that bad - but  I still had a good time.)

After about 8 years, he got divorced and moved back home.  He was in the Marine Reserves - and took a job at a local baking company.  It was very hot work in a factory - with a schedule that constantly changed around the clock.  I would have hated it, but he didn't seem to mind.  According to him — he was a Marine — the challenges of the job were nothing compared to basic training.  He commuted an hour there and back.  When I bought a new car - he took my old one as his daily driver.  It was good to see it was in good hands and still being useful. 

On a trip to another state visiting one of his friends' from the Marines he met his future (second) wife.  It wasn't long before he had bought a house and she had moved in.   They ended up getting married in my home and, I was again honored to be his best man. It was only a few months after that when he was called up for the first Iraq War.  This was before the internet - as we know it.  You could send messages to the troops with a Prodigy account.  I had one, so his wife would stop by my office every other day to write him a note.  I would send notes on the nights she couldn't make it.  We would share the anxiety when we didn't here anything from him, and the joy when we did.  Even though it was his choice to be in the reserves, I'd still find myself in tears every now and then because of what 'could happen'.  Fortunately, he returned within the year and his wife, his parents and I were at the airport to greet him.

Not long after returning - at Easter - his mom was given a wrapped shoe box.  In the box were 4 Easter Eggs - decorated with the scrambled letters B-B-A-Y.  She arranged them into A-B-B-Y - not understanding what that meant.  A few seconds later it dawned on here that the correct arrangement was B-A-B-Y.   She was going to become a grandmother!  About 8 months later, Abby (Abigail) was born.  David and his wife asked if I would be her Godfather.  Of course I would!  After the baptism, I was given a little shoebox as a 'gift'.  I opened it and inside were the 4 decorated eggs.  I was over 30 years old, but obviously still quite capable of crying.  (And yes, I still have it.)

David quit the reserves - reluctantly.  His wife reminded him he now had a wife AND child that needed him, and she could not have him going off to another war.  This was difficult for him — he was  a Marine - but I had to agree with her.  He started a new job and they built a new home.  We vacationed together in Disneyworld a few times.  Time seemed to fly by faster and faster.  In 2011 around Thanksgiving, David told me he was having pain in his abdomen.  It seemed to come and go.  I suggested he see a doctor, but I don't think he did.  In February of 2012, I had severe pains in my abdomen.  It was determined that it was a kidney stone.  A few days later it finally passed and I was back to normal.  I then got a call from David telling me he had finally gone to the doctor as well - and coincidentally they thought he also had a Kidney Stone.  He seemed almost happy - because of the irony and also that they had figured it out.

That happiness wouldn't last, however.  A few days later he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  He started therapy right away.  In mid-March, I had gone to Disneyworld with my family.  While I was still there, I got a call - it was David.  He, his wife and daughter were going to Vero Beach for a few days and then Disneyworld for the rest of the week and would I consider staying in Orlando and going with them.  I would primarily stay with him while his wife and daughter spent time together.  Yes, of course I would.  He was in severe pain and found it difficult to eat.  He didn't really want to talk much - and slept a lot.  It didn't matter - I was spending very precious time with my best friend. 

After a week, we came home and I would go to their house to help with any of the in-home therapy and also just to be there.  About three weeks before his daughter was to graduate high school, David died.  After 4 years, I still can't write that without welling up with tears.  I went to his daughters high school graduation and was a pall bearer at his funeral.  He is buried at the local military cemetery - with a mind-numbingly large number of other veterans who served their country.