Thursday, December 1, 2011

Al

My uncle died. I am sorry for not contacting anyone in person.

I will hear the specific circumstances of his death soon enough. They don't matter. All that matters is that he is gone. The connection we had is what matters, and whether his spirit (if it still exists after death) is at peace.

Last night my heart was heavy and weak and breath came with less ease than normal. He was too young to die. I don't think he has been very happy.

What he told me before I left was some of the best and most incisive advice I've had - he had no patience for senseless suffering people inflict upon themselves or let be inflicted upon them. Across the table at the Peaceful Restaurant he passed me several hundred dollars to help with costs of my trip. In typical style, he tried to stop me thanking him excessively or making any fuss receiving it. An attitude that said, "just shut up and take it". He told me not to let anyone's choice as to how to live their life cause me to suffer. He knew why I was going on this trip. He told me he loved me - not an easy thing to say in a reserved family.

There are some people whose death feels wrong; untimely, and I feel the need to do something for myself, so that their death does not feel in vain. Last night half awake in the middle of the night something changed. I could carry a heavy weight on my heart (my literal, physical heart, problems with which run in the family), or I could remember what he was looking for and what he encouraged me to find.

This morning I told him he could come with me. In some cultures they believe in the presence of their ancestors. It's my opinion that we struggled with the same thing, from the same family background - I already know that same heavy baggage and I felt it physically last night. But what I came over here to do, and he knew that, was to leave it behind. So I will continue, not for his sake because I can only carry my own burden, but for mine, in his memory and with his memory.

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