I lost my best friend back in August. Freak heart attack! Died in his sleep. Left me with hundreds of unanswered questions. My best friend was my cousin Phillip Whiteside. PAW75 on blogger.
He was 81 days older than me and we spent the better part of our lives fighting and loving. As kids we were in the same grade and played ball together. As I got older I realized there was nothing he wouldn't do for me. I recognized that in my late teens. I always looked up to him, because he was very smart and could talk to ANYBODY. I, on the other hand, was kind of a shy guy. I could fake it, but deep down I was really shy. Still am.
Turning 30, I thought was going to be rough, but he always had ways of keeping me feeling young. Bringing up old times and making me feel like a kid again. All in all I think he did that for both of us. He always reminded me of
family no matter where I was or what I was doing. He would call, and I instantly went straight back to Probasco & Steele St. 1985.
Since he passed away, I have had a new little girl. "Susanna" and my son Carter has started T-Ball. This would have been the greatest year of our life as friends and cousins; however, all I can think is how empty I am every day without him here. I think about him every day and I know without a doubt I'll never get over losing him. Life is a bitch sometimes, and losing someone you lean on defiantly leaves you unstable. If God keeps score, Phillip was a walk-off homer. The greatest. I was so blessed to have had someone like him in my corner. Fighting for me.
