I'm learning that I keep quiet when I'm scared. Scared of what to do, what to say, or for fear of saying it.
Each day it becomes harder for me to accept what is happening to my uncle and I've been afraid of speaking about it for some time. Growing up, he and I were very close. Late night guitar sessions with Dad, Nick, Dave... the jokes, him teaching me how to draw, how to fold paper towels into roses, his endless pursuit to get me to sing along with them. Its strange to see comedians on tv telling his jokes, using his smirk... the same gleam in their eyes after the punchline. Its hard enough knowing I cant be with my mom and dad, but it harder knowing I cant be with him these last moments he's on earth. All I want is one last joke, one last giggle, one last picture drawn, one last strum of his guitar so I know that he is happy.
I know we all are taking this pretty hard, but I havent yet been able to deal with it. I drove my dad to the clinic everyday, but couldn't bring myself to go inside. When finally I did, it was surreal. I just wanted him back.
Please, just tell him, if he has the strength to remember, that I miss him. I love him. Tell him of the memories I'm fond of. And maybe his spirits will let him live a little stronger tomorrow.