(no subject)
dear uncle manuel,
i haven't seen you since christmas when you laughed at my gift to seth and i blushed because i'm not quite ready to be an adult. you have a wonderful laugh and a beautiful smile. i miss you and wish that i could be closer to you. i don't know what it is that makes me feel such a distance between your sisters and i, and also between us. i know that you haven't been doing well. but why did you have to take your life? if you were lonely i would have left and went to live with you. i would have watered the plants and made you coffee in the morning. uncle manuel... i know that you know this already but i love you. none of the crap that kept trying to hold you back was any of your fault and there really was no reason for it to be continually thrown in your face. society has some fucked up standards. when i found out that you had died i tried to be strong and not cry. i held my mom's hand as she sobbed on the phone i listened to the faint sound of the sheriff as she asked questions that you took the answers to. i don't want to make up stories for you or lies... i don't want to close my eyes and see your body at the end of your rope... i know that is how you felt but i really don't think that you should have put yourself in that position literally. i hope that when you died you felt little pain, that it went quickly and that only good parts of your life raced through your memory. i don't know what happens in death. i've made up a belief system that was derived from the crazy ramblings of my stoned father and the things that i heard at the biannual trips that i make into the catholic church. i miss the way you would steam roll everyone at seven thirty in the morning, and then give them wet willies. i'm going to miss having to check my bed before i go to sleep to make sure that you haven't rearranged the sheets so that when i try to get in i'm cut off half way. i'm going to miss reseting my alarm clock so it won't wake me up at three in the morning and when i'm driving in the car i'll defiantely miss the way that i can't leave you in there by yourself because when i return and try to start the car everything will be on high and i'll having a ringing in my ears for the rest of the day. but mostly i will miss having to explain to you how my cell phone called you at one and four in the morning, and how much i miss your poop bag that you had attached to your chest. i'm going to miss the way that your hat would smell when you'd shove it in my face and i'm going to miss the look on my mom's face when you'd walk through the door and say 'hi sis' and hug her. i'm going to miss you... i already do... i love you uncle manuel.
i haven't seen you since christmas when you laughed at my gift to seth and i blushed because i'm not quite ready to be an adult. you have a wonderful laugh and a beautiful smile. i miss you and wish that i could be closer to you. i don't know what it is that makes me feel such a distance between your sisters and i, and also between us. i know that you haven't been doing well. but why did you have to take your life? if you were lonely i would have left and went to live with you. i would have watered the plants and made you coffee in the morning. uncle manuel... i know that you know this already but i love you. none of the crap that kept trying to hold you back was any of your fault and there really was no reason for it to be continually thrown in your face. society has some fucked up standards. when i found out that you had died i tried to be strong and not cry. i held my mom's hand as she sobbed on the phone i listened to the faint sound of the sheriff as she asked questions that you took the answers to. i don't want to make up stories for you or lies... i don't want to close my eyes and see your body at the end of your rope... i know that is how you felt but i really don't think that you should have put yourself in that position literally. i hope that when you died you felt little pain, that it went quickly and that only good parts of your life raced through your memory. i don't know what happens in death. i've made up a belief system that was derived from the crazy ramblings of my stoned father and the things that i heard at the biannual trips that i make into the catholic church. i miss the way you would steam roll everyone at seven thirty in the morning, and then give them wet willies. i'm going to miss having to check my bed before i go to sleep to make sure that you haven't rearranged the sheets so that when i try to get in i'm cut off half way. i'm going to miss reseting my alarm clock so it won't wake me up at three in the morning and when i'm driving in the car i'll defiantely miss the way that i can't leave you in there by yourself because when i return and try to start the car everything will be on high and i'll having a ringing in my ears for the rest of the day. but mostly i will miss having to explain to you how my cell phone called you at one and four in the morning, and how much i miss your poop bag that you had attached to your chest. i'm going to miss the way that your hat would smell when you'd shove it in my face and i'm going to miss the look on my mom's face when you'd walk through the door and say 'hi sis' and hug her. i'm going to miss you... i already do... i love you uncle manuel.