The weight of your loss hits me like a ton of bricks. I have been standing here with the news of your passing and the words you told me echoing in my mind without shedding a tear. I was told there would be no funeral, so I stood in an empty room wondering how I was supposed to deal with it. You told me that I am strong and my strength amazed you. However, I feel weak with the realization that I will never hear you laugh, or see you smile, or have long philosophical conversations about politics, religion, or anything at all.
As my heart breaks, I start to scream at the darkness and the sliver of moon outside my window and I raise my fist to the sky and I want to shout but only a croaking aching sound comes out. My heart aches and I fall to my knees as the tears come like a flood and I am scared they will not stop. As they pour down my cheeks I close my eyes and realize I am grateful for having the honor and privilege of knowing you. I pray you saw the light and felt the warmth before you were welcomed into the kingdom of heaven. I know you are finally at peace and can imagine you conversing with Emerson, Einstein, Ghandi, and whomever else has the love of knowledge that you did.
I thank you for being there when I needed to understand parts of me that were seen as weird to others but to you fascinating. I realized through you that my perspective on life came from my genes and not my surroundings. I was in awe of you and your intelligence. I admired the way you danced to your own beat.
I learned from you that family is everything and nothing else matters. Though I found it strange that you chose to live so far from family until I looked at myself and realized where I live. I am physically detached from my family but my heart and soul are always with them as I believe you were the same. Sometimes it is easier to love from a far.
Thank you dear Uncle for letting me be a part of your life and may the angels sing for you as they did for me when I was briefly presented with a glimpse of the afterlife.