I had an uncle. He died yesterday. Pronounced dead at hospital at 10 minutes past 9. He was rushed to the Kingston Public Hospital at 830am, and was unable to be treated. Time was of the essence, we just didn’t know it. He died in an acute diabetic episode. He left no children, and many broken relationships. Which makes today one of the saddest days of my life. I watched my grandmother mourn him with an anguish that only speaks in tears and disbelief.
His passing, another dark mark on my mother’s family.
Crucial questions remain. Which of us wakes up and thinks, “Today I’m going to die.” Hours in, and my entire family is in shock. The thought of his sudden death weighing heavy on our hearts. Making all else null. The truth is, he had made so much progress. The last I saw him he appeared balanced and healthy. He seemed to be taking care of himself. Keeping in mind that last year he was admitted to hospital, in a diabetic coma. Which leads me to believe that I can only understand this event in part. I have not seen/known my family’s struggle with his disease. But “did we do enough?”
He was a very reserved person, with a wry sense of humour. He kept to himself and did not like to be bothered with sentiment or small talk. But he was still my only uncle. Yes we humoured his discontent with reality, but we all hoped he would return to us.
After making it to his 60th birthday we had hoped he would rebound from the difficult days he had faced, and that the pieces would have fallen back into place, but they never did. He has left his estate neglected, his family in disrepair and his mother with a broken heart.
So, “like sand through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives.” We are here today, and gone tomorrow.