One of my fondest memories of my Uncle Alan is of him drawing colossal dinosaurs with sidewalk chalk in the cul-de-sac right outside of my home. He would make an outline of the body with precision and then spend the majority of his time adding its individual features, eventually making it come to life. There were scary ones, silly ones, even frighteningly realistic ones; each dinosaur was different in its own way.

These dinosaurs that I knew so well as a child allowed me to learn about the variety of life. They taught me to embrace peoples’ differences rather than shy away from them. I learned about the many things that affect the way a person “turns out” and that sometimes their mistakes were what made them beautiful. I also learned that with the rain came swirling colored rivers that cascaded down my driveway and left nothing but memories of the playful dinosaurs that I had adored. Embracing the loss was easy though, for I knew that with the next day of sparkling sunshine, I’d be able to recreate the dinosaurs I had once known.

But when the rains of fate washed away my Uncle Alan, I had no bucket of sidewalk chalk with which I could recreate him. Accepting this was difficult. I had never experienced such permanence; such loss. I hadn’t a clue how to cope with the heart wrenching and unexpected change. With time, however, I realized that I had recreated the chalk dinosaurs with the memories of them that I possessed. I had countless memories of Uncle Alan, so he too could be recreated. And with that, I found a way. Today, I live with Uncle Alan within me. Each day, he inspires me to take a risk, to find some hidden courage and to be whatever it is that I want to be.

From this life lesson that he so effortlessly taught, I learned that nothing is permanent and that nothing is forever. All things change, and I must cope with the change or be left behind. Life is short, so I must make it the best that I can because I never know when the rains will fall and wash it all away. And though the falling of rain is inevitable, it is essential, for it is the memories that we have of each other that truly keep us alive.