March 4, 2008
By Alecia Zigterman, Lowell, MI

In two days on the 23rd my Uncle will die again. I will get off the bus and look towards his home and see my four year old cousin in the window with a look of grief on her small face. It will strike me odd for a moment. I will go home and change into something more comfortable. an hour of mine will go by that my mother and I just goof off. Something that I say reminds her that my uncle owes her money. in a merry mood she'll call him.
His daughter Alyssa will answer. She'll say Daddy's on the floor sleeping, I put a blanket on him bacause he's turning blue. My mom will hang up and go over to his home. He's face down on the floor. Thinking this is another of his jokes she'll kick his foot. But he seems heavier than usual. She rolls him over. From outside I can hear sobs resounding through the house. I walk into his home my mom is crying hysterically. He is not breathing and his color is a corpse blue. His eyes are open, his body cold. I will colapse and cry.
They pump his chest calling, "Henry, Henry wake up. Henry come on." Somehow I'm outside the house crying on the sidewalk. Alyssa was wiht him for three hours after he died. I watch the ambulance and the coroner.
Days will go by and then sudddenly I'm at his wake. He looks so peaceful in his casket. We'll go to the cemetary and put himin the ground. All I can say is," Corn dogs. Christmas, Easter, birthday, treats, he gave me corndogs." No one knew that that was our thing. I think to myself I'll never eat them again.
A hawk flies overhead. As it did the day he died, as it did at his wake as it does now. And it will do it again in two days. My Uncle will die. Like he has everyday in my mind and in my dreams. How I long to hear his laugh and see his smile. It will be two years. He has died over and over again in my mind for two years.

God, how I miss him.

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