A week ago Saturday, the man who taught me how to drive, who taught me how to fish, who TRIED to teach me how to water ski, passed away.
His was my uncle. He had cancer.
Despite the fact that my uncle did all these things for me, once I left home, we didn't keep in touch. The only time I really saw him was when I went back to visit my parents and he happened to stop by the farm.
His wife died less than a month ago.
I went back for her funeral and he stood, with difficulty, greeting all the people who came to grieve with him. I gave him a big hug, wishing that I could say thank you for being such an awesome uncle. But all I could do was hug him.
That's the last time I saw him alive.
We buried both of them this past weekend at a small rural cemetery.
It was beautiful that they were buried together, and I know that my uncle is no longer suffering.
But I'm still sad.
Dawn
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