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My uncle, who passed away years ago, was a great man.

He used to bring me fruit from his own farm to impress me, even though we had the exact same types of trees and fruits.

He would say, “It’s really good, isn’t it?” and I would say yes, that it tasted way better than mine. Then he would start sharing all kinds of farming advice for hours accompanying me as I went about the things needed in my farms.

He always had advice for everything but he wouldn't word it as advice. He was gentle. He worded it as stories.

He did it because it made him happy to feel useful and insightful. He was my last link to my grandfather at the time, which is why I was incredibly attached to him. He lived my grandpa's experiences. He told me everything my grandpa couldn't bare to share out of concern for my happiness..and for my peace.

My uncle's children weren’t very good to him, so he became attached to me as well. He saw me as the good kid when he could recall who I am.

Everyday around 5 a.m he would pass through my bedroom window and knock with snacks..

And again in the evening to check if I was there.

As his memory loss became worse, he did it less and less.

There were times he called me by his mother's name, and played with my hair and apologized for being difficult in his youth.

There were times when he talked about me to me not realizing who I was. Talked about me both negatively and positively, it made me laugh.

When he passed away, I was furious. For many reasons I don't want to discuss again. And I was honest about my rage due to his death. I tried everything to save him and failed.

His children tried to sell the farms next to mine out of spite months after the funeral to hurt my feelings. They had already abandoned the trees, and hundreds of trees around me were slowly dying. They have done things like that in his life..let hundreds of trees die, sold the lands and wasted the money elsewhere.

Those orchards , they weren’t just money to me. They are part of the landscape where I outgrew many former selves and part of the connection I still had to my uncle and grandfather. Letting them die would have meant losing that history as well.

So I asked a friend to buy the lands first, and later I bought it from him. They would never have sold me the lands themselves.

That part of the family has cut ties with me because of it and because of things I said on his funeral. Things I still strongly believe in. We could have had him with us for at least 8 more years if they weren't such self-absorbed shits.

I miss my grandpa, sirin, cousins, ibahnini, my uncle and my mother and my friends..I miss everyone who passed away.

Despite my incredibly complex relationship with my mother, I do wish she chose to live longer.

Ahhh

I don't think I will ever stop feeling this type of longing to people who are no longer here.
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BooksRMe · 46-50, M
Hugs n' love to you