The Most Loving Uncle Ever - A Memoir I was alone and scared I didn’t know what to do. My parents were gone and I was practically alone, if it wasn’t for my uncle Ciro. All I could really think on the way to my aunt’s house was about the news of my uncle being ill. We got my aunts apartments, my uncle let me. As I walked through the hall way there was a puddle of water that came from the hole in the sealing. Me being the little one I was though that I could jump as long as a track athlete through the puddle. But my aunt stops me she graved my hand and sat me down on the couch. She started to ask me about my uncle Antonio and I suddenly got out of control She gave me a cup of water with sugar; its suppose to calm me down, but it didn’t. My heart was sill racing fast like a cheetah, tears running down my face non-stop. She hugged me and at the time I felt protected, nothing could hurt me. After a while she asked if I was okay but I could only reply with tears, she said it was okay all will be okay. Later my dad picked me up; he had come from the hospital. He came inside and sat down in the couch, I honestly was scare. I don’t know why I guess I didn’t want to hear my uncle Antonio was in worst conditions. I wasn’t wrong he was critically ill in the hospital close to dead. All I could ask myself was why, why him, why now, why was I big enough to understand. At this point having no knowledge would of helped me a lot. I asked him questions and he couldn’t answer all he did was hug me. It was the first time I saw him cry, I felt as if I had been beaten down. Ashamed and never making eye contact he left me, I was alone again I wanted to rush into someone’s arms and never let go. I wanted to fall asleep a dream a perfect happy life and not wake up to this nightmare. I stayed in that couch for a long time zoned out. It was 10pm the hour he news came on. A news report said a guy was found abandoned in a car full of blood , beaten badly with a shot in the brain. Right when they said the
name of the guy every cell in me wanted to explode. When someone you love is like that all you want to do is leave and never look back but that kinda impossible when you’re little. My mom came to the apartment, as soon as I saw her great relief got off my back. She was the little star in my darkness. She asked me if I wanted to see Antonio, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I graved all my things just like if was running a Marathon. It was dead silent on the way there, I wanted to speak but no words came out. I thought about how he was going to look, how the family was in the waiting room. We arrived at Baylor Hospital, we when through all these weird halls. How did she remember where to turn? We found my dad, he hugged me while we walked. We go to a room were the rest of the family waited. Unfortunately only two adults could see him, and that was my dad and my uncle’s wife. My uncle had a few surgeries; the bullet exploded and nearly destroyed the brain. He stayed there for a few months. Just when they were going to transfer him my grandmother arrived. Their wasn’t didn’t have a strong connection between us but I was o fulfilled with happiness when I saw her. Every day other day would see my mother driving my grandma to and from the hospital. As time passed he got better and they finally let me see him. We were in a hallway waiting to go inside the door opened. My heart was pounding harder than ever before when I walked inside that room. He looked so exhausted; there wasn’t any color to his skin. We had eye contact, and gave a subtle smile. I wanted to break into tears, but I could he seemed so happy to see us. What if seeing me cry changed his mood or thought I was scared of him? My moms sat my sister beside him and he sorta played with her hand. As I saw him all I wanted to do was hug him, cure him I don’t know. I just wanted him to be okay, to see him grow old. The nurse told use to go outside because they had to change him. Since bullet did damage his nervous system, he was barely moving his arms and legs. He also had the mentality of a baby,
if he had to go to the restroom he would just do it in his pants. As we went out I saw him, he looked ashamed as if he knew what was going on. We were going to leave, but the detective stop my parents to ask questions. To this day they have not found the people guilty. But anyways we had hope that he was going to survive. Before transferring him one last time he had a couple of surgeries. I didn’t get to see him right when he got there, my parents took me a few weeks later. When I got there I had realized that it wasn’t only a hospital for ill people it was also a retirement home. There were different sectors; my uncle was on the second to last. We made ourselves to the sector. There was a little hallway leading from the side walk to the door entrance of the building. There were pitch black poles on each side connected by a rood at the top which protected from the sun. Beside the poles there were row of flowers that danced with the wind. There were so tempting I asked to grave on but my parents didn’t let me. It had a weird smell like a mixture between medicine and a fresh scent. We were escorted to the room where my uncle was. I didn’t want to look at the people in the other room, but I did it anyways. You couldn’t tell much but I saw some were very sick and others were spaced out looking at nothing but a blank wall. We got to his room and he looked much better he hand more movement in his body. But unexpectedly after that day everything went downhill. He began to stop paying attention, started losing weight and stop recognizing each of us. Days later we found out that he got an infection on the wound where he received the bullet. It all happened so quickly one day he was himself the other a skeleton in a bed. My parent refused to let me see him. What I could see was how devastated everyone around me was, my grandma would cry each day. My grandma decided to take him to Mexico. No one told me why buy I knew he didn’t have any other hope to live. Before he left I saw him one last time but I couldn’t say bye, I couldn’t hug him or tell him I love him. He was bad; he was skinny and looked worn out. All I did was cry;
everyone cried. I asked myself why/how could I keep on living without hum. He’s been there since day one; I have awesome loving memories of him. He only lived for three months in Mexico, when they told me he was dead I felt a huge whole in my chest. I was devastating didn’t know if to cry or yell. Now I know not everything is pink and perfect theirs no magical ponies and rainbows. I began to know the feeling of hate, hate towards the people that hurt him. I know my uncle wasn’t a saint, yes he was a drug dealer and yes he was afflicted with the wrong people but he had a huge heart. This made me realize that everyone had a dark side. it made me know the pain of losing someone and destroying everyone around in the process. To this day my father can’t hear my uncle’s name or see pictures of him, the cut he left after his death has not healed yet. This made me realize life was cruel my uncle's daughters were left alone without a father. Not only life but also reality is cruel, it seems like everyone has mask on and you’ll never know what hidden under. The learning I gather from his experience is that we take control and gear our paths, the path my uncle took was wrong. I know that if I follow it I might end up like that and I don’t want anyone to feel what I felt. To this day I can’t stand thinking he’s gone, it’s really hard to relive that dark part of my life. Especially every august 10, which is the date of birth for both he and I. There’s always sadness on that day, and much as I try to be happy and smile I always end up crying at night. But I guess it’s okay I will never forget him he was an essential part of my life. Antonio, the most loving uncle ever, is now gone but know I will love you forever.