I just learned my first cousin died. He was veteran and was buried in a veteran's grave yard. No family attended the service, if there was one. Someone just noticed his name in the obituaries in the paper. He was 82 years old, and wheel chair bound. He refused to have visitors in his declining years. He never married and never had kids. He was angry with his siblings. There were three siblings. He had a bother and sister who he did not speak to. Danny's parents took me in when my own parents were going through a rough time. I was 8 years old and he was 10. I looked at him as a big brother. We washed dishes together. We talked about things like the "Lone Ranger" and "Sky King" (Radio shows that kids listened to at that time.) I think that was the last time I saw him. I moved away but he stayed in the town were were born in. I heard that he drank too much and spent most of days at a bar. A few years ago I attempted to visit him but no one answered the door. I did talk to him the phone once. He did not want company. He is dead and buried now, that's part of the life cycle. The sad part is, it seems he never lived. Sorry if this is depressing. I'm just saying goodby to a memory of someone I thought of as my big brother when we were children.