My entire life I've avoided getting too close to people, simply because I knew they'd disappoint me. Either they wouldn't show up when I needed them most or worse, I'd have to some day say goodbye. As the years have gone by, I've had many losses in my life. From never meeting my grandfathers (they both passed away before I was born) to friends and co-workers. Loss is part of life. Loss is part of getting older. Loss is part of growth, but sometimes loss can feel so suffocating.
A few weeks ago, I received the news that my uncle was terminally ill. He was given 3 months to live and that there were no further treatments available. I was confused as to how that could be. He seemed full of life. Full of energy, at least in his social media pictures. So what happened?
When my mother called me at work (she has a habit of giving me bad news at work), to tell me about my uncle, my heart dropped. Suddenly, a wave of emotion overcame me and I was transported back to the ICU where I was saying goodbye to my own father as he was getting wheeled away for his liver transplant surgery. Little did I know then, that his surgery would be cancelled and he would make a miraculous recovery. Unlike my father, my uncle's condition was more dire. His cancer had spread and was rapidly taking over his body. As I hung up the phone with mom, I knew I had to go see him. I knew that I had to give him one last hug.
Growing up in a different country from the rest of my entire family was difficult. I don't have that bond. That connection that one has with their aunts, uncles and cousins. I never knew it was like to go to my grandparents for the holidays or even celebrate birthdays surrounded by family members.
I grew up with just my sisters and my parents, with the occasional visit from my aunt and uncle and their two daughters. Because of the distance, I've been able to shield myself from getting emotional when something happens to my family in Brazil. For instance, when one of my grandmother's passed away, I felt sad that I would never see her again. but the impact was minimized since I hadn't seen her in 10 years. Time and distance makes loss easier. It makes it easier to accept and move on. However, with my uncle the loss was different. It was harder. It was real.
As I boarded the flight to Texas, my heart felt heavy, but I was excited to see him and his family. It had been 5 years since we had last seen each other. Yes, we were friends on social media, so I felt as though we had stayed in touch. I saw all their pictures, liked their updates and it seemed as though everything was status quo. We knew what was happening in each other's life, or at least that what I thought. I knew and saw what they wanted me to see.
When we arrived to their house, I was greeted by my cousins and aunt. It was so nice to hug them. To say hello. We began chatting as if we had just seen each other last week. As though no time had passed. We looked the same, just a little older. Then, I saw my uncle. He was quiet. He was frail, but he smiled when he saw us come through the door. At the moment, my heart broke. Why did I wait so long to come visit? Why hadn't I called them? Why hadn't I made more of an effort to get together? He walks over to me and hugs me. I can feel his bones. He is thin. He is having a hard time speaking and his voice was muted, but I can feel his happiness. We spent a full 3 days together. We laughed. We went out to dinner. We watched soccer matches on the couch. We shared stories. He showed me pictures of his life in Brazil, of all the things he had created from a pergola to a blooming Iris. His phone was full of memories, most of which were his two daughters that he was immensely proud of. He loved my cousins dearly and he is/was their biggest cheerleaders. He was the father I wished mine was.
When it was time to say goodbye, I tried my hardest to keep it together. I had to stay strong. I say goodbye to my cousins and aunt first. Our eyes are full of tears, since we all knew it would be a little while before we saw each other again. Then, it was time to say goodbye to my uncle. He was sitting on the couch and I leaned over to gave him a long hug. As I pulled away, he said to me "If you need anything... I mean anything, let me know." Those were the last words he said to me.
A few days later, as I'm at a friends apartment overlooking NYC, waiting for the Macy's 4th of July fireworks to go off, my phone rings. I see it's my mom. I contemplate not answering, but a little voice inside of me told me to do so. I can hear in her voice that something was wrong. Before she could voice it, I already knew. My uncle was no longer with us. He had died.
This was the first time I've felt loss. The first time I've allowed myself to feel. Every other time, when a friend died I was upset, I donated to their GoFund me pages and within a few hours I had moved on emotionally. When a co-worker committed suicide, I was perplexed why she would do that, since she appeared to have it all. She was gorgeous, she was smart, she was rich, she was perfect. I became obsessed with reading all of the news articles about her death to understand why. Did I care more because of curiosity or because I genuinely missed her? I don't know. With my uncle this whole experience has been different.
My heart hurt not just for my uncle, but for his wife and daughters. How they were robbed of having him see their future and them growing old. How his death is just the beginning. My entire family is getting older, my parents included. I realized how fickle life truly is. How a few decisions can change your life. How an unattended disease can lead to your demise. How important it is to go the doctor. To get checked out. Also, how imperative it is to make an effort. To be present.
So, if you haven't spoken to a family member or friend in a while, change that. Change that TODAY. Pick up the phone. Send them a text message. Send them a DM or an email. Tell them you're thinking about them. Make a plan to see each other. Life is too short to have regrets. To wish you'd made an effort. To wish that you could change the past. You can't. So the best way to move forward is knowing that you were able to give them that one last hug. That one last conversation. That one last moment. This way, they'll forever live in your memory as the lively person they were and you'll cherish those moments for the rest of your life.
Thank you Tio Ricardo for being an awesome godfather and that may your light shine bright as you go on an endless array of camping and fishing trips in heaven.
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