My cousin Brandon passed away in 2023.

We were never close, not because I didn’t want to be, but because of complicated family dynamics. Still, I always hoped to have a relationship with him. Every now and then, I’d send a message on Facebook. I know he was deeply loved by his immediate family, and that love deserves to be honored.

Even though I wasn’t connected to that side of the family, I knew in my heart that I needed to attend his funeral. The pull to go wasn’t about obligation. It was about peace. I wanted to show up for him, even if our bond had been distant.

Being there was emotional. It felt like stepping into a space I had long shut myself out of. But it also felt like the right moment. Something about it opened a door that had stayed closed for too long. His passing was heartbreaking, but it brought something meaningful too.

I had made a little gift box for his mom, my aunt. Inside, I placed a crystal prism to hang in a sunny window. I wanted her to have rainbows filling her home. I bought a matching one for myself as a small tribute to him. A reminder of life’s fragility. A gentle push to reconnect where you can.

Now on sunny mornings, the rainbows dance across the walls of our dining and living room. They make me pause. They remind me of Brandon. Of the time that slipped away. And of the beauty that can come when we allow our hearts to open again.

Love the ones who love you.

Stay present.

And find quiet ways to honor those who can no longer be here.