People deal with grief in different ways..
I'm realizing that I do mine privately..
I don't think its a good thing...
I feel like me breaking down in front of people is just adding to their own grief..
Magnifying it kinda..
i Don't know if its healthy..Maybe its not..
I don't cry where people can see me..
so i soldier..
I try my best to act as if I'm just fine...
..i think my mom knows this though...
she continues to ask me if I'm ok..
and I continue to say ...I'm alright..
I'm glad that she asks though..
I feel like she understand that i will ALWAYS say I'm ok..
so she continues to ask...
These days have been hard for me...
i think it made worse by seeing my sister in so much pain..but not being strong enough to even talk to her about it....
I wil lbreak...and I CANNOT!!!

My Uncle Claude died a few days ago..
The last I saw him was when i went home for Christmas two years ago..
Strangely he was Still as I remember him..
A GIANT!!
Uncle Claude was so tall that when he entered a door way you would expect him to bend to enter.
I think it was even more magnified for me..
I was a small child...and to me..he seemed as Big as Big could be..
The times when he would lift me...
I swear i was at the top of the world looking down..
He was a Giant ..
But a Jolly Giant..
He had a laugh that would carry for miles..
You wouldn't even know what he was laughing about ...
But when you heard him..you had to smile..

Just as powerful was when he raised his voice at you to boof you way..
Lord...it was Like Moses on the Mountain to me..
But that rarely happened..
Well..kinda Rare..
Try to deal with 7 million daughters and nieces under the age of 12 alltogether all at once with personalities as diverse as you could possible imagine..
The independent bossy ones, the quiet creative ones that would get bullied, the one crying for her mother, the one who would make up stories and convince everyone else it was real, the nervous one...sigh..characters all of us..

But Uncle Claude took it all in stride..
Even when we would sit in his favorite chair...haha..
That Chair..
He would sit in that chair after work..and watch his westerns...
John Wayne was his favorite...
and listen to either Classic calypso or big band music...
and lecture us on that is what real music is..

But that chair called to us..
I think it was just because we knew it was his..
and he was coming soon to sit in it..
we would pile into it...
when there were other couches..and stools and floors everywhere..
But we would all go into that chair..
AND BREAK OUR NECKS running when we heard the wrecker pulling up...

Uncle clause was a mechanic..
He had his own Garage and of course bright shiny red Wreckers..
we would crawl on them like they were a new toy...
And wave when we saw him pass on the street with it..
The garage itself was a wonderland..

I will always remember walking around down there and imaging a secret world in between the rusting cars...and discarded parts in the yard.
They used a lift to raise the cars..and Uncle Claude would indulgently give us rides in it up and down up and down, shrieking girl screams, patient and smiling...ALWAYS.

I remember too when him and my aunt would take part in these dancing events..
They would get all gussied up and go ballroom dancing..
The man could dance...
he would put us on his feet and WHIRL away...

I think he was entirely responsible for my obsession with meat..
Garage FOOD.
The best
you would ask me what my favorite food was as a little girl and it would always be Garage food.
Uncle Claude would cook from Turtle to 'guana to Mutton..
in a bubbling pot on stones at the Garage
The dumplings would be cooked in with whatever meat was in the pot..
Tender and flavored with whatever was bubbling gt the time..
Nothing has tasted better..
Being able to eat with you hands made it soo much better...
it was amazing..
I would be in complete delight waiting for it to finish..
i didn't care WHAT was in that pot...
as long as he made it..

He was such a family man...
Dedicated to my Aunty Claudia...[Claude and Claudia - destined huh?]
and his kids who were so like him..but still not him..
You couldn't miss him in their faces..
I think they all got stronger parts of his personality...
One - more his strength,
One - his easy going and helpful nature
One - his openness and honesty..

He helped form my life..
he loved me as his own...
He was always happy to see me..
I reverted to the little girl that could fit in his hand whenever i saw him...
the girl that would have fits of giggling and excitement when he swung me in the air...
So i could see the top of the world..

I grieve for him...
I grieve for his loss
for the laughter he brought to our lives..
to the joy he brought to his wife and kids and to our family..
to that niche of security that you can only have when the people you love and love you are there ..where they always are, where they're always supposed to be...

I PRAY that i can go home to honor his memory
Once again i feel like the absentee relative..
absent in happy, absent in sad
Just absent

I'm failing them again..
I mourn that as much as I mourn him
I hope he and them can forgive me