My uncle died this weekend. My mom’s brother, and the one who taught me a lot of neat things when I was very young. My mom was at school and my dad worked, so he lived with us and took care of me during the day when I came home from school. We would always look at the stars together, and I remember one time when he woke me up at 3:00 in the morning to go watch a meteor shower. I remember that it was the neatest thing.
I remember lots of things about him. I remember him losing his balance helping carry some furniture into the house; he left a huge hole in the wall that took my dad several days to repair.
I also remember the day my parents kicked him out. I don’t remember why, but I remember listening to the yelling from my room. It was a very sad day for me and it still bothers me a bit.
I hadn’t spoken to him in more than 15 years. I never really got the chance. He was always out of money, always out of a job, and always in need of something. He ended up a wheelchair bound diabetic who passed away from a heart attack, probably alone.
I hope the next life finds him better than this one.