My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this.
Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me.
He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad.
I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body.
I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation).
That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significant role in my life.
It was a role he'd play over and over again. He was at every important event in my life. He bragged about me to his friends. He'd say, "This is my niece, the one I told you about."
Our relationship was far from perfect. He wasn't perfect. Neither was I. But I know that he loved me...regardless of my success...in my purest form...at my highest and my lowest.
He's probably the only man who does.
Now he's gone. I don't know what to do or how to navigate a world he's not in.
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