He was like a second father to me, but on the morning of August 19, 2007 at 4:00 AM, my hero was gone. He was my uncle and when he was about 50 years old, he was diagnosed with lung cancer. The doctor gave him one to five years to live.
When I was younger and when I still lived in Connecticut, we would go to his house every Friday and Saturday night. When he would get out of work, he would come to see us at home and bring us gum. The Big Red kind.
He gave me strength by never giving up. No matter how bad he felt over that year that he was sick. He was independent, he liked to be alone, when there were people in his house he would stay in the living room while everyone was either outside or in the kitchen or he would stay in his room. He was a workaholic he had three jobs that he works for about 35 years or maybe more.
When I was younger, he reminded me of my dad. Sometimes I would run to him and think it was my dad. I would not notice and he would pick me up and raspberry my neck. It would tickle me and make me laugh.
He gave me strength by never giving up. He had his good and bad days, some days he would wake up not feeling good, and some days feeling great. Nevertheless, he would never stop doing what he was supposing to.
During one, visit to Connecticut, my uncle said, “ I have a feeling that this is it. I will not see you guys again.” My dad and I started to cry. My dad said, “ Do not say that. You are strong and you are going to get through this.” Not long after, he died.
It is a little awkward every time I am in my uncle’s house, but soon warmth washes over me. I felt that my uncle was looking over me. That was the hardest week ever.
I believe that everyone has a hero and for me it was my uncle.