"God, I ask not forgiveness, for my sins are mine to live with" - Shirley [Baby-sitters]

Straight to the point ..

"I tend to think alot. so I'll just roam from topic to topic .. just because i discuss something doesn't necessarily mean I'm feeling some sort of way.. it may just mean I choose to discuss it .. because I find it interesting. Or I feel some sort of way, my call."

Thursday, August 8, 2013

VIII.

"Thats 8 in roman numeral?" — yeah. "Is that your favorite number?" —no, it's the day my uncle passed away" 

August 8, 2005 .. 

I remember it like it was yesterday. Horrible morning, horrible guilt I placed on myself, horrible pain I felt that I just recently let go. 

Ralph was my grandmas youngest brother, so technically he was my great uncle. He was a Vietnam war vet, sarcastic and wiser than any man I have yet to meet. I owe alot of who I am today because of him. He would come stay with us quite often. Making my siblings and I Mickey Mouse pancakes, putting us on punishment when we stepped out of line. But me and him had a special relationship.. He was really my mentor now that I look back on it. He introduced me to comedy, Richard Pryor (we would watch his movies and he'll school me on shit I didn't comprehend.) Columbo, murder she wrote, Law & Order.. Seinfeld was his favorite sitcom, we would watch TV land like that's the only channel we had. Mr. Ed, Sanford & son.. Wild cowboy movies, I can go on all day. We would crack jokes on my siblings and say its way over their heads when they missed the jokes. He used to loveeeee table talk apple pies 2/$1, rack up on those with some milk and devour it. Lol 

He would call me princess of darkness, I was a cold young bitch lol and niggerette.. I never took it personal, he was just as dark as I was.. In fact when I would tag along with him and roam the streets of manhattan people thought I was his daughter.. And I mean everybody knew him. Like even as a kid I was always surprised that we couldn't walk a block without someone stopping him. Apparently he was the man around those parts. He taught me plenty of things as a youth, I vividly remember the war stories and tales of his childhood and even adulthood. He was certainly very interesting. 

I don't remember when exactly he was diagnosed with testicular cancer.. He was horrible with informing us about his health.. "I'll be fine.. Don't worry" was his favorite line. I assumed he would be fine. The first time I realized its possible to lose him, I was staring at him in a hospital bed at the Veteran's hospital, they had to perform surgery, he looked so weak.. Those tubes disturbed me. But regular Ralph cracking jokes, cutting everybody ass.. Telling my grandma to bring him food. "The food here don't got shit on yours Tana".. I asked him, you gonna die? He looked me in the face, I ain't going nowhere. It made me feel better.. But it made me feel worse when I later realized he just said it to make me feel better. 

Three weeks later, he was at our house. It was very early in the morning.. My brother woke us up screaming, maaaaaa Ralph fell. He's not getting up!!! My mom hopped up, I heard heavy footsteps, I stood in the bed. I am not a morning person, if anything I was irritated because in my mind he was fine, he just fell. He's a grown man. (I resented myself for those thoughts for years to come) .. The ambulance was called, I'm sitting in the living room .. I didn't even go into the room he was in. I think now, I knew then it was over.. I just didn't want to see him like that. I wasn't strong enough. As they wheeled him out on the stretcher, I caught a glimpse of his face .. He was dead. There was no life in his eyes. I saw this but tears didn't fill mine. I was numb. (I would later break down to a friend, he didn't believe me when I told him.. I burst into tears, I didn't want to believe it either.) They claimed he was alive still, my mom encouraged me to go see him at hospital and I didn't go. For what? I hate hospitals.. Plus he was already dead to me. And if he wasn't, I'd know once he walked back through the door with a smile and his leather bookbag over his shoulder. A call around 3 am let me know it was official. I heard my grandma screaming cries once my mom told her. And it broke me in so many ways. I knew how much he meant to her, shit he meant alot to me but that was her baby brother. The death certificate says he died August 9.. But nobody can tell me he didn't die on the 8th. I saw death as it rolled out my house, taking my uncle with it.

The funeral came, it was crazy. So many family members that didn't give a shit about him was there .. Like where were you when he was in the hospital? Family members who dragged his name through the mud now showed face like they had some respect, why is it that people have all this respect to show when you're dead but alive they're disrespectful as hell? .. It was disgusting. The saddest part was his son's arrival, he had a son in DR that he never got to meet.. Their first encounter was at the funeral. Imagine that, not being able to meet your father until his funeral? The craziest part? His son was a spitting image of him. It was fucking creepy and heart wrecking at the same time.

I'm teary eyed writing this, I always think of how much more I could've learned from him, all the things I never got to ask him.. How I never got to thank him for everything he showed me. I had a dream with him once, I knew he was dead in the dream... "But Ralph you died" — I know "what's heaven like?" — it's cool, we need more chairs though, kinda crowded.. we laughed. And I woke up crying. 

Today makes 8 years since he left earth.. I can only hope he watches over me quite often, I feel he does. I know if he was alive today he would be proud of me.. I mean I wouldn't be who I am today  with out him. 

Continue to rest in peace Ralph, you're very much missed. <3

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