Almost two months after Uncle Paul died and I finally broke down. Mom asked me to make a few copies of his memorial DVD. Just a picture slideshow with musical background. Something I’ve watched plenty of times already with mom, and at the funeral.
After making a copy I tested to make sure that it would play correctly, and as I sat there watching my uncle’s smiling face in every photo I lost my shit. I sat and replayed that DVD for an hour and cried like a school girl. I’ll never get to see that smile again, never get to hear his laugh. His guitar sits silently awaiting somebody else’s hands to make the music now.
I miss you Uncle Paul.