Yesterday was a very sad day for me, and still is today.
I lost my beloved Uncle John.
He finally submitted to a valiant fight against luekemia and other ailments that have been plauging him for over 40 plus years. He spent time as a POW during WWII, as his 24th plane mission was shot down over Germany. Actually as if being shot down once wasn't bad enough, he was shot down on more than one occassion (at least that is what I am told), evaded capture and still survived to return home and have children and live in the same town in which he was born: Wakefield, Michigan.
He is survived by his sister (my grandmother Flora) and a brother (my Uncle Joe) who also still live in Wakefield and had another brother who passed some years back, Renaldo. He has three daughters and one son and many grandchildren and was loved by all.
Especially me.
His great nephew.
There are those special people in your Family that no matter what, have a special affect on your own life and you feel a special connection to.....A spark..... everytime in which you enter the same room with that person.
That was how I felt about my Unlce John.
I can remember even at a very young age visiting all my relatives with my parents in Michigan, that my Unncle John Negri was special, my favorite. Almost like a second grandfather to me if you will. I formed an immediate attachement to him, and it grown ever since over the years.
These days, I would make it a mission to call him every few weeks, just to talk with him, even if it was about nothing in general. Just to Hear his voice, to see how he was doing.
I always looked forward to those calls.
His dry sense of humor and sharp wit were amazing. His outlook on life despite the bad hands he was continously dealt regarding his health was always optomistic.
His Italian blood was his life force, and it showed in his verbal excitement, his mannerisms, his jokes. He often told innocent jokes to me about women and booze, never demeaning, but always damn funny.
And the way he used to say 'Jesus Christ' when he was trying to make a point. I can still hear that in my head today.
Often, my Unlce John would take me and me alone to entertain me when we visited. He'd take me to shoot pool, buy me some beer nuts, always proud to introduce me to everyone he saw on the street.
He was proud of me and his family, and was never ashamed of anything. He could take even the most dire of a situation and find the silver lining, and make everyones straight face into a smile with some off the cuff remark from left field.
And even as a young boy, he'd often slip me a $20 to buy what ever I wanted, no questions asked.
My Uncle John.
A Giver. Generous.
A giver of laughter, a giver of life, who in turn his own body tried to steal from him time and time again. But as a stubborn Italian, always put up the good fight.
But this last time, he was a bit too tired. He wanted it to stop after all these years. I never once considered him a quitter, and I still don't. He put up with a lot over the years, always with a smile on his face.
But he wanted to finally go home.
Go home to ever lasting peace.
To see his mom and dad and brother.
To finally be pain free. He knew he was loved by everyone. His family, his children, his grandchildren, and me.
I feel a bit ashamed, I had the chance to see him this last year, and something in my gut told me I neeeded to go, however family matters and finances as they are would have been expensive to fly myself and Monica out there. The last time I saw him was a little over three years ago when this picture was taken.
I'm mad at myself. And I cried all day yesterday, the sort of cry where my eyes still hurt today.
I go in and out of acceptance of his death. One minute I try and push it down, think of something else, the next, I well up in tears to say I wish I could have seen him one last time.
To hear one more joke. To have one more ride with him in his car. To hear one more fascinating story. To share one more root beer. To have one more conversation.
All I can hope for is that he is in peace right now, with is family, and in no more pain. That he is with our Lord, Jesus Christ, and hopefully one day I will be lucky enough to see him again.
Uncle John, I love you and I miss you.
There is an empty space in my heart right now where you life shined brightly, and even though you were ready, I was not.
Take care. I miss you.
Show Paradise one heck of a time and keep them all smiling. I know you can.
Your loving nephew,
-Jayson
