My great uncle, who I used to spend a lot of time with and often posted about, passed away last December.

He was the one who told me to hide egg peels under the soil so the 'angry lady' wouldn’t get us, pointing at my house to show me where she lived.

He had the keys to my properties, and back when his memory was better before the strokes, he would travel at least 70 km to buy gluten free chocolates and snacks and leave them in my home. We used to go fishing regularly, though he did the fishing while I admired nature.

During his last months, he spent more time with me than his own family because he had enough of their problems and wanted a break.

He only returned to their home for the last two weeks of his life, and that’s when he fell into a coma. I did everything I could to save him. I paid for my colleagues to come over from abroad to help me. I was so desperate. I only found out later that he wasn’t given his medications correctly which contributed to the complexity of his case.

I reported his wife and son for that. I was upset, still am.

After his funeral, they neglected his lands. I took care of the parts bordering mine despite their refusal, but I watched the rest wither away before my eyes whenever I was going home. They only showed up to harvest whatever was left. Hundreds of trees died. I finally understood what he meant when he said they 'weren’t men' and that they were useless.

I repeatedly asked them to let me take care of those lands for free and give me access to the properties and they repeatedly refused.

They sold the lands to someone else few months ago, and then I bought them. They thought he is paying me to restore, irrigate and provide water until recently they were informed by a judicial party while inquiring about taxes that the lands are now under my name.

They don't deserve his legacy. And they didn't deserve him as a father and a husband. They hate me because I am a reminder of what they should have done instead. And because he told me everything that was going on between them.

Next year, I want cherry trees to bloom for him again, just like they have when he was alive. People never do this here, but I am going to carve and hang a plate at the entrance of the farms with his name and open it during spring. I want people to see how beautiful they are and that what he left behind will live on always.