Ingest This!

I know I’m in denial.

I wake up to mornings with a heavy heart filled with acceptance and I create the day with hopeful wishes of reunions and made-up fourth of July celebrations; you being there, blowing your candle.

And I end the day just like how I started it.

I guess receiving has always made me happy, except that day when I received the news about you. Maybe the distance made it easier to deny and go on with life. But when I come back, I have this picture of you picking me up from the bus station. I start to realize that I will have to wait forever for you. It really isn’t forever, but when will it be? When will we argue again? Your point of view is mostly a contradiction to mine, yet I would rather argue with you until my forever is up. Than waiting. And wondering. When will that day arrive?

I wanted to hear your thoughts about giving up. Until this day, I never gave up on you thinking you gave up. I often wonder if you fought at all. Did you turn back? I wish to see you even in my dreams and tell me it did not end up like how I thought it did. Yes, I am selfish and I wish to be guilt-free. But I wanted you to say it didn’t end up that way, so I can see you again.

They say if you pray hard enough for souls who didn’t make it to heaven, your prayers will be heard and that person will eventually get there. I cannot imagine the kind of place you’re in at this moment, but I pray that you get to your destination. And that someday, I will see you there. We will see you there.

I’m sorry that I am not letting you rest. Please give me more time to think of you. Just a little bit more. Please give me more time to recreate new wishes without giving burden to your resting soul. Until I get tired of wishing. Please give me more time because I cannot move on right away. Just a little more time to be strong. Let me bring closure properly. Let me grieve for a while. Until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Until I feel what we had was enough. Until I accept that it was more than enough. I know you were more than enough. You were more than enough for us.

I wish I could hear your comforting words again. “Don’t worry Jade, I’ll drop you off. “

It’s six o’clock in the morning. I haven’t slept yet… A knock issues at my door and it’s kind of useless that people still knock when it’s unlocked, but I’ve gotten used to just yelling and saying it’s open (even if it was in the ungodly hour of six o’clock in the morning).
It’s Uncle Andy.
I don’t know how many times this scene’s replayed itself in my head…not the fact that he’s knocking at my door at this hour, but that he’s continually done so in a normal manner for years now.
The question of what’d I want
from Mc Donald’s for breakfast kind of gets me excited because even though I was sleepy, I was also hungry. Hunger started gnawing me at two in the morning actually, but the fact that I kept it at bay is kind of good now that he’s going to go and buy some breakfast. I guess it also helps that I’ve been nagging at him in World of Warcraft for the last…several hours we’ve been playing…but that part’s not important either.
He goes off, comes back, and knocks again at my door about fifteen minutes later. The hotcakes and breakfast sausages I asked for has come and I eat them about four hours later because by this time, I’ve decided to finally sleep.
He was always giving…up until the very last second I saw him. I’ve lost count on how many times he’s treated us to something…as long as, of course, it was his choice of establishment and whatnot. It has to be the pho next to Shoreline CC, the sushi at Sushi Ring (he spoke about some other sushi place once, but we kind of shut him up after shoving some sushi in his mouth from this place haha), Sambazons!!! What’s sambazons you ask? Well it’s unfortunate that he never got to show you…because everyone he’s treated for sambazons now goes back to Emerald Smoothies over and over again because for one it’s really, really good…and two it was something Uncle Andy left behind as a token of his memory.
It’s hard to speak of him in the past tense. The fact that I can only look at him in memories is hard to swallow. Uncle Andy was so different sometimes that it irked me and I loved knowing I could tell him that and he’d just smile and shrug.
Why does it have to be the pho next to Shoreline? The broth is good apparently.
Why did he have to lag me at two o’clock in the morning?
What was his obsession about Michael Jordan that he as well as I and every one of his nieces and nephews have watched his MJ DVD’s like…fifty million times…and still not get tired of watching it?
What was so cool about those beetle shoulders that weren’t epic?
I hated it at times…when my opinions couldn’t get to him, but after years of knowing him and just spending time with him it became the norm.
If you couldn’t be yourself around Uncle Andy then you can’t pull being yourself in front of anybody. If you couldn’t speak with him about your personal opinions on matters regarding the conversations you struck that day, you’ll probably have to keep it to yourself forever…because regardless of who you are…Uncle Andy, was just that…Uncle Andy, and if you couldn’t say what you wanted to say in front of him, there’s nobody e lse you could’ve shared that moment with.
As I write this, I can’t help, but think of Frank Sinatra’s song I Did it My Way because if any song were to reflect who Uncle Andy was, the title for that song does him justice. But unlike the song, he wasn’t self-absorbed. He always listened about what you had to say and after hearing what you’ve said he’ll say what his opinion is on the matter…and isn’t that just so Uncle Andy? I can hear him now just saying:
“No, no man…see? You got it all wrong! It’s like this…”
Or if he’s merely backing you out and you’ve said exactly as he was feeling, he’d laugh loudly, kind of punch his fist into his palm repeatedly, and nod enthusiastically was going, “Yeah! It is like that though!”
I miss him. We all do.
Even in this family, we all have cliques. And he was in mine…and it feels so different just knowing that he’s no longer there. But I can still see him clearly. Who he is in my memories will never be tainted and I remember a vibrant, opinionated, caring, kind, and strong uncle. One who’ll always listen, but will never be swayed because of his already strong internal beliefs. One who always knocked at whatever hour in my door asking if I wanted anything from the store (as long as he got to use the car of course).
One of my last meals with him was in Panda Express. That day he stated, “Let’s go out to eat. My treat.”
Thank you for the meal uncley duncley. Thanks for everything.
—-This was written by my dearest sister Jammy (and copied and pasted from Dix’s blog) the day before the funeral. She read this as well during the dedication part of the service. This was truly written at heart…so true….so Uncle Andy…we missed him so much.

Let’s travel!