What a dreadful week.
My uncle passed away on Sunday night/early Monday morning. I still feel like I am in shock. He’s always been there, making sure to greet me with a ‘how ya goin Champ’. He loved fishing and relaxing and we always got along for our love of dogs. He used to hold my hand when I was a child so I could go out and pat his beloved Dobermans. They’d knock me flying with their big legs and wagging bottoms.
I wish I could’ve stood up at his funeral yesterday. Stood among his fishing rod and his favourite book, sharing my memories of Uncle Ray. The way I would laugh with him about his singing Trout that my Aunt hated and the way he shared his stories of America. He flew a Confederate Flag in his yard, above his boat. ‘Why do you have the Confederate Flag, Uncle Ray?’ I asked him once. He looked at me through his big glasses and replied, ‘Cause I’m a redneck.’ There was never anything wrong with being a redneck. It just meant he was happy about himself, a family man, appreciated the simple things in life and treated everyone like they were family.
Goodbye Uncle Ray. You’ll always be in my heart.
After my uncle’s funeral, I came home to the news of some passengers’ names of Malaysian Flight MH17. There were 28 Australians on-board that flight, and unfortunately, I knew one of them.
I’m feeling very confused and a bit numb. I’m going to go connect with the ocean right now because that’s all that makes sense to me in all this death.