Mark

November 5, 2013 was the very last day my uncle took his last breath. Some may say, why just him? Why is he so much more important to you than your other uncles? Well...he was there. For a while just before his suicide, he and his deceiving wife had shown signs of committing this act. However, no one took warning. Not even I. This man was a very smart and clever man. He knew his way around just about anything, even after his stroke a few years prior. The only thing this man couldn't do was stay in one apartment for more than six months; he was always on the move. He was my favorite because he supported my dream in becoming a part of the military. He also taught me how to cook hamburgers the right way, LOL.

The very day I found out about his death, there was a package at my parents' door when I got home from school. It was heavy and it was from Uncle Mark to my father, and it said to open immediately. However, I didn't. I waited for my dad to get home. I was eager to find out why he sent such a heavy box to my dad. Though, when my dad opened it, it was filled with a bunch of things he wanted wanted everyone to have and a letter. The letter basically stated that he was sorry and that he loved us. I didn't know what was going on until my dad dropped everything and grabbed my mom while he was on the phone with Zephyrhills' police. From there, I knew he was gone. The warning no one took actually happened. Zephyrhills' police told my parents that he took a three month supply of his Tremidol and his heart couldn't take it (of course), and they found his wife crawling on the floor barely alive... However, they found PCP in her system. Something completely different from my uncle's. Which led me to have countless amounts of questions that I still have today.

The next day, I went to Zephyrhills to see her, and she said she couldn't move her legs. However, I watched her every move. She could move her legs. Because she attempted suicide, of course, there was someone always at her bedside. Even though I was watching her every move, I couldn't look at her straight in her eye. I knew she convinced him to commit such an act. Once it was time for my parents and I to leave, she decided to take it upon herself to tell me that my uncle loved me. I lost it. I hated her even more then. On the 8th of November, we went to his viewing at this absolutely beautiful funeral home. Even though his body was cold; everyone who worked on him did an amazing job getting him put together and make up was done beautifully. He didn't even look dead. As time flew by, and everyone was saying there goodbyes, I was hoping that he'd jump out of the casket and he'd still be alive, but he didn't. Now all we have left is leftover items, pictures, and his ashes.

Still to this day, I do not go a day without thinking about my uncle. He was special to me because he was the only uncle who lived in Florida. The only one who took interest in being there for me and cared for me like I was his own. Now, almost five years later, it feels bittersweet. Knowing he's gone forever, but still missing him as hard as I did when I last saw him. Now, with four children, they go without knowing who this wonderful man is. A man who would have loved them as much as I do.

I miss you, Mark.