To my amazing uncle..
I guess it's ok to spill my emotions on a computer screen thats going to be posted all over the internet. It's not like anyone is going to read it anyway. Maybe one person. But I really doubt people care enough to read this long thing, but whatever.
Life's funny isn't it? How one minute everything seems like it's going to be ok and have that fairytale ending that we all dream of and then the next it just comes crashing. Someone should study why life just works in this cycle and write a book. I'd buy it. It would be a best seller because I think in truth we are all just lost in thought whether we like to admit it or not.
Right now I'm debating my beliefs on honesty and innocence. They say "what you don't know can't hurt you". And I guess "they" (whoever that refers to) are right because sometimes it's just better to be obvlivious to the world around you. But at the same time I guess I'm glad that I'm part of the inner circle of knowledge so its not a slap in the face when it comes down to it. But I don't know, I can't help but argue with myself.
It's one of those things that just makes me wish that I was still that little 7 year old kid that saw the world through the eyes of Walt Disney.
Here's to you Uncle Ricky. Not that you are ever going to read this counting we haven't spoken since my Bat Miztvah. Not that I didn't want to speak to you. You just live so far away and it's so expensive to fly nowadays. I know we all found out about the Testicular Cancer a year or so ago--and how it spread everywhere--so--fast. But you were doing so well! The Doctors said that you had many more years ahead of you! I know all the procedures and medications were just prolonging the inevitable.
But the doctors said we had time. I was told that we had time.
And now I'm an adult. So dad is perfectly blunt with me. And I can't say I didn't ask for it because I did. Last time he didn't tell me what was going on I got mad at him. The whole idea of getting mad at him for trying to keep me stress free and in a sense, innocent, seems so ridiculously juvenile now.
I remember the last time you were here. After my Bat Mitzvah. We still had my Rube Goldberg from a year prior set up in my livingroom because we thought it was cool. You were so amazed that dad and I were able to make it. And you were even more amazed that I came up with the entire idea myself. You have always been the funny uncle. The one to make everyone laugh. When you were first diagnosed you even made that a joke. "When they ran the tests I saw my body on the screen and I was lighting up like a christmas tree from head to toe." Which I guess was funny when we were told that you were going to be fine.
So now they say we have less than a year. At first I wrote "you have..." but then i realized its not just you. It's me too. And everyone. Everyone who hasn't had the opportunity to be by yourside. And for that I'm so so sorry. I hope more than anything that you can forgive me.
Actually, if i say that then that would be lying. What I want more than anything is for you to make it to Mike's Bar Mitzvah. It's a little less then a year away. I just want you to push for it so badly. I want you to see Michael. He actually has grown up. I want you to see me, in my beautiful dress and appreciate how much I've changed. I want to wear the necklace you gave me on that day, whether it matches the dress or not. I want you to dance with me. I want you to still try to give me and Michael money for absolutely no reason just because that's what you do. I want to be able to continue to make fun of your bald head simply because that's what I do. I want you to see how much I care about you and I want you to know how much my family loves you even though we are technically only related through marriage.
I want to understand why this is happening. It's not fair to you. You never got married. You never had kids. I want you to know that you are still loved and that you're time hasn't been wasted. I want you to see me for who I am now, not just who I was at 12.
I want to be able to get myself to believe that this is all real and not one of my reoccuring nightmares. But for some reason I can't seem to get myself to. Whether I want to admit it or not an ignorant voice in the back of my head just keeps saying "Nah, he is going to be fine. Things like this don't happen to my family." I don't understand why part of me wants to be that naive.
525,500 Minutes. A year isn't long enough.
Life's funny isn't it? How one minute everything seems like it's going to be ok and have that fairytale ending that we all dream of and then the next it just comes crashing. Someone should study why life just works in this cycle and write a book. I'd buy it. It would be a best seller because I think in truth we are all just lost in thought whether we like to admit it or not.
Right now I'm debating my beliefs on honesty and innocence. They say "what you don't know can't hurt you". And I guess "they" (whoever that refers to) are right because sometimes it's just better to be obvlivious to the world around you. But at the same time I guess I'm glad that I'm part of the inner circle of knowledge so its not a slap in the face when it comes down to it. But I don't know, I can't help but argue with myself.
It's one of those things that just makes me wish that I was still that little 7 year old kid that saw the world through the eyes of Walt Disney.
Here's to you Uncle Ricky. Not that you are ever going to read this counting we haven't spoken since my Bat Miztvah. Not that I didn't want to speak to you. You just live so far away and it's so expensive to fly nowadays. I know we all found out about the Testicular Cancer a year or so ago--and how it spread everywhere--so--fast. But you were doing so well! The Doctors said that you had many more years ahead of you! I know all the procedures and medications were just prolonging the inevitable.
But the doctors said we had time. I was told that we had time.
And now I'm an adult. So dad is perfectly blunt with me. And I can't say I didn't ask for it because I did. Last time he didn't tell me what was going on I got mad at him. The whole idea of getting mad at him for trying to keep me stress free and in a sense, innocent, seems so ridiculously juvenile now.
I remember the last time you were here. After my Bat Mitzvah. We still had my Rube Goldberg from a year prior set up in my livingroom because we thought it was cool. You were so amazed that dad and I were able to make it. And you were even more amazed that I came up with the entire idea myself. You have always been the funny uncle. The one to make everyone laugh. When you were first diagnosed you even made that a joke. "When they ran the tests I saw my body on the screen and I was lighting up like a christmas tree from head to toe." Which I guess was funny when we were told that you were going to be fine.
So now they say we have less than a year. At first I wrote "you have..." but then i realized its not just you. It's me too. And everyone. Everyone who hasn't had the opportunity to be by yourside. And for that I'm so so sorry. I hope more than anything that you can forgive me.
Actually, if i say that then that would be lying. What I want more than anything is for you to make it to Mike's Bar Mitzvah. It's a little less then a year away. I just want you to push for it so badly. I want you to see Michael. He actually has grown up. I want you to see me, in my beautiful dress and appreciate how much I've changed. I want to wear the necklace you gave me on that day, whether it matches the dress or not. I want you to dance with me. I want you to still try to give me and Michael money for absolutely no reason just because that's what you do. I want to be able to continue to make fun of your bald head simply because that's what I do. I want you to see how much I care about you and I want you to know how much my family loves you even though we are technically only related through marriage.
I want to understand why this is happening. It's not fair to you. You never got married. You never had kids. I want you to know that you are still loved and that you're time hasn't been wasted. I want you to see me for who I am now, not just who I was at 12.
I want to be able to get myself to believe that this is all real and not one of my reoccuring nightmares. But for some reason I can't seem to get myself to. Whether I want to admit it or not an ignorant voice in the back of my head just keeps saying "Nah, he is going to be fine. Things like this don't happen to my family." I don't understand why part of me wants to be that naive.
525,500 Minutes. A year isn't long enough.