I remember clearly the night he was in a car accident and was hit by a bus. I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep for fear, seeing the accident in my head as the street lights lit up the ceiling over my top bunk. My heart still races when I imagine that night and see the bandages on his head.
I remember thinking how cool my uncle was. He was fairly young when he lived with us. He was the ultimate cool. He was in college with these massive books full of math problems I couldn't even begin to wrap my elementary school head around, he lived in the basement suite, he had some super cool friends, he always seemed happy, and he had the greatest laugh I had ever heard.
When we moved to the new house, he did not move with us. But he still came around a lot. I remember him coming with new cars, various new business ventures that always netted us some cool new gifts or free food. I remember at one point he was helping a friend of his get her music group up and running. They even opened up for Lauryn Hill and Busta Rhymes when they were in town. I remember going over to his apartments and seeing how cool it must be to live on your own.
As I have grown up, I have seen that he is not the perfect person. I have seen him suffer. I have seen him cause my parents pain.
But I have all these memories of him. Some are more current. Him using his new camera phone to take pictures of his first grand-nephew. Seeing him at my local grocery store laughing with the people behind the counter. Always that laugh.
November 8th my uncle went into the hospital. He had pneumonia and kidney failure. The first week he was there he started swelling. Although I really like learning the science behind the body, it was hard to look at him. At one point for a few days his normally skinny face was so swollen that it was actually larger than the photos I have seen of Emmitt Till lying in his coffin. There were tubes and bags all over him. They had to use a screen-type of thing on his eyes to protect them because he was so swollen that his eyes were bulging and could not close all the way. His kidneys failed and they put him on dialysis. His lungs collapsed and they had to put him on the new-fangled breathing machine that shook his entire body as it tried to move more oxygen through his lungs. He would get better and then he would get worse and then he would get better. There were days when we prepared for the worse and days where there seemed to be some semblance of hope.
Monday, December 15, he passed away. The doctors had tried everything and they said that he was way worse than when he entered the hospital. It took four minutes.
When I was younger there was a year when we went back to Nigeria for winter break. I was young. Our first dog, who was absolutely awesome despite her penchant for locking herself in the bathroom during storms, was dying at the time. She had cancer, or something similar. They took her to the doctor. We left for Nigeria and she was put to sleep on December 19th of that year -- my birthday.
This year on the 19th of December I will attend a funeral. It is strange and difficult because we have never had a funeral in this country. We had to find a funeral home and figure out what this will be like. At the same time, we are going to do some things similar to what we would do at home. My parents have a good, super large circle of friends who are going to help us a bit, but it still mind blowing.
I've cried, I've laughed at the memories, I have cried some more, I have tried to be strong. I am now to the point where when I think of him I constantly am hearing his laugh in the background of each memory. I am trying to not focus on the images of the past five weeks that I have of him. It is hard. But his laugh seems to be winning out so far.
Hopefully that and other happy memories will reign on the 19th so I can at least have a little bit of a nice memory of this coming birthday.
Until then, I'll keep singing some Blind Melon in my head:
Hey I'd like to daze away to a
Place like no one has known
In a state of mind I could call mine
That only I could own
Where I could hum a tune anytime
I choose, and then there is no such thing as time
Where I can feel no pain just calm and sane
What a place for one to find
I'm sorry, friend. So sad.ReplyDelete
Beautiful post. We'll keep you in our thoughts. Sometimes, it seems like bad things happen all at once.ReplyDelete
Thanks to both of you.ReplyDelete
Hi, I'm so sorry for your loss. I can relate to how you feel, and you expressed it so eloquently. My older brother died the day before christmas in '92, and then my dad dropped dead 6 weeks later. But now it's all these years later and the holidays are just all wrapped up in their immortality..it's like we celebrate christmas and celebrate both of them, too. And always remember that love does not go away. You love your uncle just as much as you ever did, right?ReplyDelete
A heart always feels so hollow when a dear one to us passes, but at the very least your memories of them will always be alive and well in your own mind. Hang in there.ReplyDelete
@ sisterstation - It is sad, and at the same time, I think, like you said, that it is something that we can celebrate -- the ceremony and the services and all afterward were times of sharing good memories and of sharing the love that we have for him the love we have for each other. It has made us stronger.ReplyDelete
@ G. - Thank you. The memories will stay alive, as will our desire to make sure that we share that love with the ones that are still alive and with us.
Your mixture of sad and beautiful memories brought me down my own memory lane of relatives loved and lost. Thank you for sharing these.ReplyDelete
happy nappy holidays folkReplyDelete
I am thinking of you on this christmas morning and hoping for you to find comfort. Peace on earth.ReplyDelete
I'm sorry for your loss. I think his paugh will forever live in your head. I lost a very good friend earlier this year, and his laugh still rings in my head to this day.ReplyDelete
Laughter is medicine for the soul.
I wish you all the best wishes in the new year.
@ Kit -- Thank you. I hope it is a good walk down memory lane for you.ReplyDelete
@ Torrance -- Right back atcha, man.
@ sisternation -- I appreciate all the thoughts from you and from everyone.
@ RiPPa -- Thank you. Laughter truly is a great medicine. And hearing his has helped me a lot through this all. As has the laughter of those around me who are able to help me to be happy and laugh.
Happy New Year to everyone. I wish it to be full of greater things than what has occurred in 2008!