Memories come and go. Some days the thought is just the calm before the storm as the emotions rush through your veins. The best memories are when times spent with loved ones that are gone come back to you. A place or a song or even a certain smell can flood your mind with memories. My favorite memories of my uncle come back to me when I hear a certain song. The song reminds me of the days when I would climb into his big gray pickup truck and we would drive country roads singing together perfectly out of tune. We would drive until we arrived at the farm house with the huge red barn. He would take me into the barn and up to the loft where I would get lost in barrels of hay until I couldn’t find my way back down and would need rescuing. Days like this were my favorite. Just him and I the entire day enjoying each other’s company. I felt myself surrounded by the love of my uncle. It may have been because I was so young or just because I never thought it would end but I took his time and love for granted.

Remembering the good things and the best days of course make me happier then remembering that awful day. Although I wish to remember the days when my cheeks ached from smiling and my belly hurt from the constant laughter these days are tougher to remember. The memories drift as I age, falling into oblivion as I add more to my schedule. I ache to hold onto the memories of the days I enjoyed so much with him. I hate that I’ve allowed myself for these things to slip my mind. The picture of his smiling face and perfectly swept hair fades until I see the perfect picture of him that sits on my nightstand to remind me just who he was. I have it there for many reasons. For him to watch over me while I sleep, for me to constantly see his face and remember that all the things that I do, I do for him, to show me that the image in my mind of him the hospital bed wasn’t who he was.

Losing my uncle was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to experience. I was only ten and barely understood what true heartbreak could feel like. Anyone that has ever gone through the death of a family member can attest to the fact that one cannot understand how much pain it will truly cause until it happens. When my uncle passed away I lost more than an uncle. He was my second father, my best friend, my ally, and my rock. When he was gone so was all of that. He was never married and had no children so that role was replaced by my sisters and I creating a mutual feeling of true family. Getting to spend the ten years of my life that I did with him is one of the greatest gifts I could have ever been given. Losing him changed my entire family. It made everyone gain a different outlook on life. My dad became tougher, my mom became softer, my sisters got closer, everything changed. After loosing my second father my relationship with my real dad became more strenuous. I, who was once a daddy’s girl now became stone cold to the love and compassion of my father. Speculations could be made that it’s only because I’m “just a teenager” but I disagree. Although I am a teenager and I do have many opinions and growth from my parents I feel that after the loss of someone so close everyone changed. The idea of life for all of my family became much different. Some began to fear death, some embraced it for they hoped to see him again, while some ignore it. The death of my uncle created a shift in my family and my entire world that can never be fixed.