2011 was quite the year. I lost an aunt (Rest In Peace Aunt Evelyn) in the beginning and an uncle (Rest In Peace Uncle Phillip) in the end, literally, on December 31st. Not to mention some hospital scares in between. I never been much of a mourner, as I become older I've come to accept death as a transformation or some sort of passage into a parallel universe. Even still, the passing of a loved one affects me far different than I imagined it would. My aunt Evelyn, because there was so much discourse between her and my mother, I imagined that I probably wouldn't shed a tear at her "transformation". But that night, when the time came, right there by her bedside I sobbed uncontrollably. I miss her.
My uncle Phillip I never got to know too well, none of us did. He was sent to prison when I was around 7 or 8, and there he stayed for close to 20 years. Even while he was away we didn't hear much about his childhood, girlfriends, favorite color...nothing. It was like he was the "ghost" of the family. So much so, that at his funeral the family was able to conjure up only 3 photos of him; one as an infant, one as teenager, and one right before his "transformation" at age 53. The theme of his funeral was "Family got to stick together". And the funny thing is, as with most funerals, it seems that's the only time we as a "family" come together. What struck me was if I had been just an observer, on the outside looking in, it would've appeared as if we had been closely knit all our lives. There were cousins I haven't seen since diapers and we conversated and joked as if there was no lapse in time between us. It felt good. It left me wondering what it would have been like if I had gotten the chance to sit down with my uncle and "kicked it".
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