The people in our lives often play roles in different parts similar to that in the movies.
Different scenes. Different acts. Different parts.
None of them is less important than the other. All of them are necessary to make you who you are today, whatever stage of life that might be.
My cousin Josh played a huge role in the first 10-13 years of my life. We were part of a "cousin crew" that included 5 of us born within an 11-month timespan between December 1986 and November 1987. He lived about 45 minutes away, but his grandparents lived in between my house and my own grandparents. (Our grandmas were sisters) He spent a large portion of his summers in my hometown and if he was in town I was typically with him.
One of my favorite parts about Josh was that he didn't know a stranger. He made more friends in my hometown than I did, and I lived there all the time. He didn't care who you were. He didn't care if you were popular or unpopular. He didn't care if you had or didn't have money. He didn't care what kind of music you liked. He didn't care about any of the materialistic things that many people get caught up in.
He loved people. All people. He taught me so much in those summers spent together.
Today we laid this hero of his own hometown to rest.
Josh became a firefighter the day he turned 18. He was raised by parents and siblings who loved to serve their community. It was ingrained in him. To help. To be there. To make this world a better place. To show up when others ran away. To not only run to fires but also to accidents and even situations with his family and friends that weren't considered "on-duty".
I'm actually not sure if Josh was ever actually "off-duty".
Once we got our driver's licenses and started building our friendships and relationships outside of our family we didn't stay as close of contact. We built our own lives. We started families and built careers. Each successful in our own ways. I know that if I were to ever need him I could have picked up the phone and he would have been here. Time passed wouldn't have mattered.
I now can't make that phone call because he is gone. As our family gathered over the last several days I have received and given hugs of love, sorrow, and some filled with tears. On my drive home each night though the only hug I couldn't get out of my head is the one that hurt the most, and that is the one I will never get to have again.
Josh gave big hugs, even when we were kids. He did absolutely nothing small.
He was the life of the party, he had the ability to lighten any situation, the one who could make you feel better by simply being present. When he was there you knew everything would be okay. He had a presence about him that was truly unique. A way to make everyone feel included and loved.
His absence is loud because his presence was loud.
As I listened to many different stories over the past few days and met people that have had Josh as a part of their stories it seemed like no time had passed at all. He was as a 35-year-old man the exact same core as he was while we grew up. He loved everyone. He helped everyone. He made you feel important. He brought fun and laughter wherever he went. He included you. He didn't care about your status or what you might have to offer him, he only looked for how he could be there for you.
That is the Josh Haynes I will always remember.
Watching the Honor Guard and dozens and dozens of emergency personnel honor our family hero has been very humbling. The guy that never asked for anything but was always willing to be there for others deserved every last bit of recognition he has received.
He left behind a legacy of service, love, and of living life to the fullest in every moment. He leaves behind this legacy in the hearts and minds of his children, his parents, his sisters, his niece and nephews, his emergency personnel family, his extended family, and every single person that has ever had Josh play a role in their story.
With the coverage of his funeral, he is also reaching far beyond anything he could have ever dreamed of. I do pray that he is smiling down and seeing all of the lives that he has touched.
All of the people who are better because they knew and were loved by Josh Haynes.
Not being able to be wrapped up in a big hug by my cousin is the hug that hurts the most and will hurt for a very long time.
When I want to sit in the sadness of the situation I try to think of what he might say, and I think a small child summed it up as his casket was loaded into the firetruck today and that is "How Bout Dat?". It made me smile simply because I feel that is something Josh would have said about all of the attention he has received over the last 8 days.
Firefighter 9203. Dad. Son. Brother. Uncle. Cousin. Nephew. Friend. You had many hats and you wore them all so well.
I am so proud of you, and although this hurts, I am a better person for having you as a part of my story and for teaching me what service, love, passion, and showing up for people truly mean.
