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Just this past week, my cousin, Chris, passed away. Apparently in his sleep, they found him in his bed, in his apartment. 

Chris was a special kid. Although he was in his late twenties he had never really seemed to mature further than that of a ten year old. He had gotten a job as a janitor and had finally moved into his own apartment when everybody thought that he was doing fairly well on his own. 

That was my father there on the right, doing what he did best, teasing and tormenting.