So, I am going to start off by saying that this will have a lot of death in it.
In 1999, my grandfather, the only one left, died from lung cancer. Broke me into pieces. I was 16, the youngest grandchild, and the first out of my mom, two brothers and me to know that he had died. I answered the phone. He was the rock that held this family together. As years we by, two uncles passed, two of my aunts died, friends died, my best friend died of colon cancer (broke my heart even more into piece). October of this past year my favorite uncle passed. He was in hospice when I went to see him. He couldn’t talk, he was so helpless. I had a panic attack in the bathroom and my wife had to calm me down. Two days later, he died. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. I cried at his memorial. I cried for days after. In April of this year his brother, my grandpa’s son, my mom’s brother, my other uncle died. I did not cry, it was like I have already cried every tear I had on passings before him. A couple days after his funeral, which I didn’t go to because in my heart and my mind, I could not be at another funeral, on the way back from the mall with my wife, I asked her if we could go see him at the cemetery. This cemetery has my grandpa, grandma (died before I was born), one of my uncles on my dad’s side and now the one that I did not cry over. In between my grandpa and grandma, my aunt put some of her husband ashes there because that is were he wanted apart of him at. Then a couple of plots next to my grandpa, my uncle who recently passed. I cried. Why couldn’t I cry before, why couldn’t I go to the funeral, why did I only cry when I got there? Is it because I am heartless or have I cried all the tears I had to cry for now?