02/27/2026
Cameran — The Best Uncle Ever
This is heavy.
Today is the anniversary of our brother’s passing.
In honor of him, I want to recognize Cameran — his best friend.
I’ve watched this man love, laugh, cry… and almost break.
When our brother passed, we were all hurting. It sucked. There’s no better word for it. Everybody was carrying something different. But I saw what it did to him.
I saw him lose his best friend.
I saw his heart break.
I saw him struggling in ways most men don’t talk about.
Grief isn’t clean.
It isn’t organized.
It doesn’t look the same for anyone.
Some people lash out.
Some people shut down.
Some people drown quietly.
And if you haven’t dealt with it yet — you will. That’s not negative. That’s just life.
When someone you love dies, they leave a hole. And that hole does not shrink. It does not disappear. You don’t replace it. You don’t fill it.
You learn how to walk around it.
Some people never figure that out.
And here’s the part that matters — no one can grieve for you. No one can carry that weight for you. People can say, “Call me if you need anything.” They can sit with you. They can love you. But when it’s time to stand up, you have to grab your own boots. You have to walk through the door. You have to decide you’re going to keep going.
Cameran did.
When it would have made sense to spiral.
When nobody would’ve blamed him for folding.
When numbing it would’ve been easier.
He stepped up.
For her.
For his family.
For ours.
And this part is important.
People say legends never die.
That’s not just something you put on a shirt.
They don’t die because their memories ripple through us.
The stories we tell.
The jokes we repeat.
The lessons they taught us.
The mannerisms we picked up without even realizing it.
When someone impacts you, they become a piece of you And when they’re gone, you carry that forward.
That’s how they’re honored.
That’s how they’re remembered.
That hole in your heart? It’s not empty space.
It’s full of them.
It doesn’t feel like a place you can go back to.
But the truth is — you’re already there.
Because they’re part of you.
And because Cameran stayed…
Because he showed up…
Because he kept showing up…
She has had a window into her dad.
You can see it in the mannerisms.
You can see it in the way she carries herself.
You can see pieces of him ripple through her.
Not because someone told her stories once in a while.
But because someone was present.
Because someone embodied those same lessons, those same energies, those same standards.
She has never felt empty.
She has never lived in constant sadness.
She only knows what she missed because someone explained it to her.
She has been surrounded by love — from her mom, her aunts, her family… and from Cameran.
That doesn’t happen by accident.
That happens because a man decides his pain will not become someone else’s burden.
We all make mistakes.
We all fall short.
None of us are perfect.
But Cameran is a good man.
Not because he says it.
Because he lives it.
There are people who quit.
There are people who fold.
And I don’t judge them.
But there is something powerful about the ones who don’t.
The ones who rise after their world flips upside down.
The ones who understand how final certain decisions are.
The ones who choose to keep going — even when it hurts.
Six years later, the hole is still there.
But so is he.
Much love, Cam.
Thank you for stepping up.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for manning up.
