Life

The traces people leave behind

Wow, it’s been a long time since I have written anything on here. Returning home after living in another country for almost a year was a bit of an adjustment. The new job and studies have also been keeping me busy with little time for much else.

Also I tend not to write when things are going well. Which I suppose is weird, this blog was for me to share and journal my highs and lows.

Last Friday was a definite low. My uncle passed away at the age of 46. Young, if you think of all the medical marvels and technology at our disposal. I took his death harder than I thought I would. I’m doing the whole I’m strong and putting on a brave face bit but I’m still hurting. This is someone I grew up, a permanent fixture from my youth. He loved spending time with children, I think it’s because he never had any. I clearly remember one day after school he rounded up the neighbourhood children and we spent hours in the park collecting pine cones, leaves, anything that looked interesting to us. He then inspected our ‘treasures’ afterwards. I don’t why this memory is so vivid, maybe because of the look in his eyes was that of a young child, like all of us that day, ready to embark on an adventure.

I’m not going to lie, he was not perfect. He battled with drug addiction his whole life, he did not have an easy life and his living conditions near the end of his time was not great. Why I am grieving so deeply? Could it be that most of life he was not happy? He had his demons to fight, a fight we all have to face on our own. It almost seems like he had a wasted life, but I’m sure that he did experience joy and love no matter how brief or long it might have been.

All I know, the bad stuff, the things he did that disappointed and angered the family has diminished. What we left with are the memories of happier times. How a line from a movie can have us all laughing and thinking of him. Because no matter who or what he was he was loved. He will be remembered. He lives on.

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