A Sad Day

August 17, 2003. I collapsed to the floor of our church when I my mom pulled me aside, sobbing, to tell me that my fun-loving older cousin Drake had been killed in a car accident early that morning.

My dad had called to wish Aunt Linda a wonderful 55th at 8:30a.m. “Hello, sissy! Happy Birthday to yo––” he began, cheerfully. “STOP! Linda screamed. “Drake’s dead.” His girlfriend, Julie, was the driver. Police officials said the car was going 90MPH and "catching wind."

Drake and I weren't particularly close, but tragedy had never hit home like that before. I’d been to funerals and mourned the losses of older church friends and family members, but nothing prepared me for seeing my handsome, charming and mischievous older cousin’s lifeless body in a mahogany casket.

I wanted to run up the chapel aisle and wake Drake up––he was only sleeping, right?–– but he couldn’t be woken. “Think about his spirit,” my mom said, comforting me. I had never touched a dead body but on that sunny August day in Novato, CA, I held Drake’s cold hand. I thanked him for childhood memories, forgave him for swatting me with a broom after I’d poured Beano into his ice cream once in 1998, and sobbed inconsolably, clinging to my stuffed polar bear, Snuffy.

I grew up a lot after that experience. I learned to hold forgiveness in my heart, like my aunt Linda who instead of sending Julie to jail, asked her to speak to high school classes about Drake and the dangers of speeding. I learned to say I love you to those I care about whenever possible. I learned that as a young person, I am not invincible and neither are my peers. I learned that, indeed, the good sometimes die young. It’s not fair, but it’s not a perfect world. Through this realization, I learned to honor the memory of loved ones, which has helped me to cope with subsequent losses of young people–– my high school crush who committed suicide, my lovable classmate Kory who was killed in Iraq with his dog Cooper.

It's been five years since we meandered about our house at 1240 10th Ave. in a painful daze. Five years since we booked immediate flights to San Francisco for the funeral. Five years since I got out my art pencils and drew a portrait of Drake as my tears spilled onto the thick cream-colored paper. Time heals, but not completely.

I still cry every August 17th. I still play songs from Drake's funeral and look at pictures of him every couple of months so that I don't forget what he looked like or how he acted.

Today, I celebrate the life of my older cuz who left us far too young at age 19. I also celebrate my Aunt Linda who turned 60 today. She has demonstrated the power of forgiveness and the spirit to persevere with her teaching career at San Marin High School. I celebrate Morgan, Drake's sister, who was just about to head to her freshman year of college when Drake died. She made it through her undergrad in an impressive four years and now as a gorgeous, poised and well-loved 22-year-old, works in the hospitality industry.



Here's to you, Drake the Snake:

Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven

Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven
I'll find my way, through night and day
Cause I know I just can't stay
Here in heaven

Time can bring you down
Time can bend your knee
Time can break your heart
Have you begging please
Begging please

(instrumental)

Beyond the door
There's peace I'm sure.
And I know there'll be no more...
Tears in heaven

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven

Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven