Before the Next Life Lately

I’ve been meaning to write a “Life Lately” post for weeks — a sort of Life Lately October–November 2025 reflection — but every time I sit down, it feels strange to start with the good stuff when I haven’t acknowledged the hard. This isn’t my usual kind of update — it’s more of a pause, a reflection on the unexpected turn life took this fall.

Before the Next Life Lately

When I published my September life update, I could not have predicted what would transpire over the following six weeks. My 40th birthday and backyard celebration were on the calendar, as well as a trip to our favorite place and a concert in Boston. What was not on the calendar: spending three weeks visiting my 39-year-old cousin in hospice. I didn’t have funeral services or a celebration of life penciled in either.

The bittersweet caveat to life’s journey is that we really never know what will happen tomorrow, let alone five minutes from now. On one hand, it’s exciting to think the future may hold something bright and shiny. On the other — well, no one is ever thrilled for bad news. A day before my birthday, my mom sent a text to the family chat: my cousin, Brian, had been admitted to Yale New Haven Hospital. My aunt brought him in after noticing a sudden decline in his strength and an increase in seizures.

Brian had been courageously fighting brain cancer since 2012 — enduring three surgeries, countless hospital stays, multiple rounds of chemo, radiation, and immunotherapy. He defied all odds from birth, born without a significant part of his brain, and faced every obstacle with a “Bring it on” mentality. We all sort of knew brain cancer would eventually take our fun-loving, hilarious, and caring Brian away — but no one actually believes death will come knocking tomorrow. Aren’t we supposed to disregard the dark cloud hovering nearby on a beautiful sunshine-y day?

What can I tell you about my cousin Brian? He made us laugh — often when we least expected it. He loved to make people laugh so much that half the time he said things that were completely inappropriate and off-color. Brian was cracking jokes right up until the last night we spent together, that little grin appearing after every punchline.

I often think Brian felt things differently than others — maybe even the right way. He found joy in the smallest corners of a dark world where others might not. He faced life’s monsters with his fists raised, chin up and ready for battle, while others may have retreated in fear. Brian was determined, focused, and found strength in pain. To know Brian was a gift from the universe.

The last few weeks have been a blur of emotions: anxiety, sadness, anger, stress. I tried to hide my feelings at first, but they soon overwhelmed me beyond repair. Once grief slipped in — before Brian even passed — I found myself retreating into that internal place where I hide when I can’t handle what’s happening in the world around me. And then, when he took his final breath, I came out and began to face the emotions I’d tucked away.

At the end of the day, I can’t forget how fragile and beautiful life is — and how important it is to show up for the people we love, even when it’s hard. My family — especially my siblings and cousins — have rallied around one another, holding each other up when it feels impossible to stand. I’m blessed to have friends waiting to catch me if I fall. I don’t know that I’ve fully processed everything yet, but I’m learning to sit with it — to honor both the pain and the love that come with loss.

I’ll be back soon with a more typical Life Lately October–November 2025 update — but for now, this is where my heart’s been.