I was getting dressed for practice.
Singing at the top of my lungs
and dancing around my room.
Music blasting.

Then my door creaks open,
and I see my mom's tear streaked face.

She told me gently like she couldn't believe it herself,
“Uncle Brian died today.”
And it hit me,
hard.
Took my breath away,
fast.

She gave me a hug,
held me tight like I would disappear any second too.
Warm tears running down our cheeks.
We knew it would happen sooner or later,
he just kept getting worse.
I tasted the bitter salt of my tears.
I felt empty.
Stupid cancer.

I sat down and in my mind I saw him.
I saw him smiling with his crooked teeth,
I saw him sitting in the same recliner every Christmas,
I saw him telling me there was a cat in his mouth,
Teasing me.
I didn't even get to say goodbye.

That night after practice
I stood outside.
Looking up at the stars,
hoping he was listening,
I told him goodbye,
I told him I missed him,
I told him I loved him.

My face was red and stained with tears.
Choking on sobs,
my hands were shaking.
I screamed,
but all I heard was silence.

I started walking back inside.
I felt a fuzzy warmth surround me,
like a hug,
and I knew he heard me.