This morning my uncle (my moms brother) passed away. He had been sick, so while it's always sad to lose a friend or close family member, it's never good to watch somebody suffer either. So instead of talking about sadness and how horrible and cruel life could be (since it was basically Vietnam war that made him sick), I've decided to share some things about uncle Steve.
If you weren't around Steve and he wasn't complaining about his pension, health insurance, or his mortgage, then something was wrong with him.
If he didn't stop at all his favorite locals for coffee and harass all the waitresses, then something was wrong with him. (mind you he went to 4-5 different places each day)
If he wasn't at the labor hall each day, something was wrong with him.
If he didn't go and buy his favorite licorice at farm and fleet, then something was wrong with him.
If he didn't come over to our house and say he wasn't hungry, and then end up eating what I made anyhow and act like I was twisting his arm to do so, then something was wrong with him.
If he didn't come visit and tease my children over something, then something was wrong with him.
If he didn't always ask about Zachs mom (he thought she was hot), then something was wrong with him.
Nine months ago, he had a massive stroke, and he stopped complaining, didn't tease anymore, ate whatever I got for him without hesitation, and only smiled when we talked about Zachs mom. He didnt get to stop by his favorite restaurants or the labor hall. We knew then, something was wrong with the uncle steve we had grown to love, grumpiness and all. I don't know what happens when people die, but I hope he's having coffee eating apple pie, and complaining that he never has to make another mortgage payment again, and I'm sure he's also bitching about his pension! As he should.....he earned it. Goodbye for now. Love Shawna
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