It’s been a couple years now since my Uncle Frank has passed. I still remember that day crystal clear. It was a Saturday morning and my mother had just picked me up from dance class. I was sitting in the backseat of the car, extremely excited, because I was promised that I was getting a fish that day. I asked my mom about it and she said the promise was still being kept. But, then she said to me that the past night at midnight, my Uncle Frank died of a stroke. The moment she finished the sentence, it felt as though my heart sank to my stomach. My heart felt so empty yet heavy all at the same time and my stomach felt like it was going to explode. It was a feeling you get when something unwanted and unexpected happens. I was only a little girl and he was such a big part of my life that I didn’t know how to feel besides empty. I knew he was gone now and that he would never be forgotten.

“Why did this have to happen to him mommy?” I remember saying. “The doctors couldn’t save him?

“Gracie, I’m sure they tried to save him but sometimes there’s nothing you can do.” My mom says.

“This isn’t fair. I never even got to say goodbye!”

“I’m sure he’s looking over you right now and he always will, honey.”

Even though my mother tried to comfort me as much as she could, I am still, to this day, hung up on the fact that I never got to say goodbye. Being so young back then and remembering how important he was to me and my dad especially, I couldn’t even imagine not being able to see him once more or at all. He was the man in my life who always made me smile and laugh constantly whenever we were together. He lit up the room and filled everyone who was in his presence with joy and happiness. He loved all of his grandchildren and everyone in his family to an amazing extent. Thinking about how he’s gone hits me very hard and I hate thinking about it but the worst part about all of this, was visiting my Aunt Marie, his wife, for the first time after his passing. I remember walking up the front steps, about three of them, to ring the doorbell of her house. When she opened the door and saw my father standing there, she wrapped her arms around him and began to cry. My father and my Uncle would always go on fishing and hunting trips together and my Uncle adored him and always told him how much he loved him and for my Aunt seeing my father, I’m sure was the hardest person to see. We stood there for about two minutes while she gave my mother, brother, and I all hugs and kisses then made our way inside. Our time at the house was short, but sweet. We played with their dog, Chico, ate hamburgers and cheeseburgers (only because those were my Uncles favorite things to eat) , and just sat and talked. The smell of a barbeque filled the air and left all of our mouths watering food that was being cooked. I would always find my way to Aunt Marie and she would lean into me and tell me that “Frank would’ve loved to see you here. You’ve become so beautiful and I know he loves and misses you very much.” She said this to me everytime she saw me but I loved hearing it because I trust that what she was saying was true and it filled me with happiness.

After visiting my Aunt, I tried to remind myself of all that I remember of him. Nine Island Pond in Newfoundland, Canada is the first thing that pops into my mind. This is where my Uncle enjoyed spending all of his time. It’s where we would have family reunions after not seeing each other for many years and where he would watch the sun rise and set over the pond while sitting in his cabin. I remember just the little things about this spot. I remember him climbing up the ladder onto the roof of the cabin to fix the shingles. While he’s doing this, I hear all of my family and friends splashing in the pond to cool off. I can taste my Aunts pastries that she cooks just for us when we visit. As we go inside the cabin, I find the paint and put it on my fingers as I am about to give him a hug. I feel his back and wipe my fingers on him hoping he never notices. I go into the guest room I am staying in and grab a few hair ties then walk back out to him and ask if I can make his hair look amazing. And of course, he says yes. By the time I finish, he has many little clumps of his hair scattered around his head tied in hair ties. This is the memory that I feel I will always have stuck in my head. This reason being it is the last time I really remember seeing my Uncle Frank.

Still to this day, Frank is not forgotten by anyone. He was such an important person to not only our family, but to the people of St. Johns, Newfoundland. I will always remember him as the funniest, loving, and caring, Uncle anyone could ask for. Each and everyday I know he watches over me and everyone he loved and continues to love. That Saturday morning will forever be a day stuck in my mind and I continue to remember him and all of our memories everyday. Rest in peace Uncle Frank, gone but never forgotten.