Trigger warning: This post relates to losing a loved one to cancer. Please skip it if you’re not in a mental place to cope. Frankly, I’m not in a place to cope, either. That’s why I’m writing this.

In February, my forty-six-year-old cousin was diagnosed with cancer. By the time it was diagnosed, it had spread to his endocrine system. He underwent chemotherapy and sought the best medical care in the country, if not on the planet. He died late last Monday, fourteen hundred miles away.

Jason was a ...