Today is my favorite uncle’s birthday. RIP, Uncle Manny. This year will be his second anniversary. That’s gonna be so hard. I miss him so much. I never realized how he effected my life until he died. He used to call me every day, 3 times a day and talk about nothing. When you’re that close to someone, the loss is great, you know. I think I would have taken it harder if I wasn’t prepared. When we found out he needed a heart transplant we all knew it was a chance he could die. But he didn’t. He lived for another year with a donor heart.

But he was also diabetic and when he got an infection they had to do surgery in his chest. And when you’re diabetic it takes like 3 times longer to recover. So he would go in and out of the hospital for months at a time. And the last time he went in he said he was afraid. I guess part of him knew. He called me so much those last few days. The day before he died he called me and said he looked forward to coming home so we could have a barbecue.

And I remember I was on the computer at like 3 AM and my aunt from NY (he lived with her, because they have better hospitals there) sent me an instant message saying to turn my phone on. I started crying. I knew what she was gonna say. I picked up the phone and she said “Uncle Manny is gone”. I screamed so loud. I ran to the kitchen and fell to the floor and started screaming. My mother came out of her room and said “I’ve been regretting the day I’d hear you scream like that”. Then my Grams came out of her room and she knew. I love him so much. So many times when people die there’s regret of things that you didn’t do when they were here, but I don’t have that. He knew I loved him. He knew what he meant to me.