Yoyo

Learning of the death of someone close is never easy. It doesn’t matter whether it was sort of expected because of a prolonged illness or a sudden occurrence. It hurts the same way. 

My uncle (my mother’s older brother), who I called Yoyo, lived like a ray of sunshine. As a child, I found his teasings and weird antics annoying. But he was a joy to the people who knew him. I have yet to meet someone who didn’t have anything good to say about my uncle. He was the helpful one, dependable, and a straight shooter. 

When my parents, sisters, and I lived with my grandmother in the city, Yoyo came to visit everyday and gave us, kids, treats that made my grandmother mad because we tended to eat them before dinner and spoiled our appetites for “real” food. But he showered us with those treats anyway. He was never much for rules and conventions. He was a free spirit and did what made him happy. Maybe that’s why he never married. No woman understood his seize-the-day mentality. 

No one can blame him. He lived on borrowed time. Well, I guess we all are, but he wasn’t supposed to live past the age of 12 according to the doctors because of his heart defect. But not only did he cheat death and lived till 65 but he grabbed life by the horns and rode it like a great adventure.

When I saw the effects of Parkinson’s disease on his body 7 years ago, it was like seeing a different person. The light in his eyes had gone out and his usual boyish manner was replaced with a seriousness that I didn’t recognize. It was like he died and all that’s left was a body animated by whatever was left of his crushed spirit. It was difficult to see him like that. And each time I went to visit, I couldn’t help but pray for respite for him. Now, he’s finally resting and home with His creator. No more pain, no more suffering; just joy forevermore. 

Yo, I can’t wait to see your jolly old self again on the other side. Till then.

Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone. (Mitch Albom)