My Uncle Mike passed on Tuesday, and I’m still unable to process the news. He was always the big man who seemed like Atlas, holding up the world. I remember him, with my brother perched on his shoulders, impervious of all around him. That will always be the way I remember him. I wasn’t able to speak English with any sort of proficiency at that point, but I was good at emulating. I heard my cousins call him “dad”, and decided that was a good thing to call him…he chuckled when he heard me, sat me down and patiently explained to me what the word meant. In that moment I think I loved him…the time he took to correct me, without embarrassing me. He may have been a coarse man to most, beer guzzling country boy type. To me, he will always remain that man who took his time to talk to me. And as we were never close, I never thought his passing would affect me this much. Standing at his viewing, seeing him in a box, waxy complexion, death making his mark on him…I was overwhelmed with the sensation of loss. He was the Atlas, the one who could hold up the world…he couldn’t be the same frail old man in that box. But these are my memories, my recollections, and even though he was as imperfect as any human, he was my uncle, someone whom I cared for from afar.
My cousin sang one last song to him…her voice rang out, reverberating into everyone’s psyche. I felt her pain, her loss, as acutely as I felt the surrounding, the surreality of it all. I felt every choked back tear, every swallowed sob, and I felt the projection of it all. I savored each stab of pain, because It reminded me I was still here, still alive, that I wasn’t numb and I was still capable of feeling. and I cried for each tear held back, and I sobbed for each swallowed.
I miss my family, my boys, my little girl, my wife – knowing my time with them isn’t unlimited. I watched as my aunt caressed her husband for the last time, and wondered whether there was anything left unsaid between them – and I want to never have a sense of regret, to think there was more to say.
There has been too many deaths in my circle lately…and I feel rage…and perhaps I shouldn’t, perhaps I should accept that it is a normal part of a life cycle…perhaps.
~ciao