Saying Goodbye

Salutations my beautiful little kumquats! I KNOW OKAY! I KNOW! I FUCKING KNOW! I’M SORRY FOR FUCKS SAKE GET OFF MY BACK AAAHH! *Sigh* Now I know some of you may be wondering where the fuck I’ve been for a month, I’m sure most of you reading this won’t have a clue what I’m talking about, and consequently won’t give a shit. But for the people that want to know, I have been in India for the past few weeks, and so unfortunately I haven’t been able to write any blog posts, however the trip has inspired ideas for new posts in the future so we’ll get back on the grind I swear. When I posted my first blog on here I was filled with a lot of excitement, I was excited for what my blog could be for me. Now, I wasn’t necessarily concerned about how many people read it or what everyone thinks about it (you better fucking love it). But I was determined to keep posting, the quota I gave myself was to try and post once a week. And for those of you who know, you’ll know that I failed miserably. One month has passed since my first blog post and well this would be post number two. So then, what happened??

I’ve heard people say that life can surprise you in many ways. And no matter how many times life finds a new way to surprise us; every time, each surprise hits just as hard or even a little harder than the last one. Sometimes you can do all the preparing in the world and you still won’t be ready for whatever news befalls your ears. If you read my last post you’ll remember I briefly mentioned my distain for waking up at 4:00 am in the morning. And ironically and somewhat poetically this post begins at 4:00 am in the morning on the 13^th of February 2019. I was woken up by my dad and naturally I was rather annoyed, I asked him what he wanted, but after looking at his face I knew that it was something bad. I waited as I watched him struggle to get the words out. I watched him fight back the tears as he tried so desperately to find his breath. He told me that his brother, my uncle was gone… I’m sure most of us can agree that death is a horrible thing. Mainly for the people that are left behind. And I’m sure most of us know what the pain of losing someone feels like, so I won’t patronise any of you by explaining it. And to be perfectly honest with you guys, that’s not what I want this post to be about. This post is about remembering the wonderful man that my uncle is. And for those of you thinking that you won’t be able to take anything away from this post; if you can understand what kind of a man my uncle is or how he lived his life, then you can possibly learn a thing or two from his legacy. I know I sure did.

Just so you get an idea for what sort of a man he is. He’s strong, he’s independent, he’s funny, he’s hard headed, he’s motivated, he’s extremely driven he’s caring; he loves unconditionally and he’d be ready to die for the things he loves in a heartbeat. The man I know worked tirelessly, sometimes not even sleeping, touring the state in his amazing, shitty silver Bolero that he should have replaced ages ago, but he never did. He would always be on the road to provide for his family, to put food on their table, to put his sons through school, to build a better life for him and his wife. I’ve never seen someone who was willing to work that hard, for what he loved. He’s truly a role model. Especially for me, I mean my idea of a hard day is laundry day. He was never afraid to live my uncle. When I was a little kid, sometimes he would pretend to fall asleep while driving, so he would tell me to take the wheel and make sure I don’t kill us. And sometimes when I would visit India he would let me drive his Bolero along what I can only describe as, probably the most dangerous roads in the world. “Don’t worry” he’d say, he’d tell me to be confident, he’d tell me to just envision what you want to do and then just do it. For him it was always important to be courageous in life. And he made sure he passed that along to the people he loved. A lot of us fear death. And as a result of that; a lot of us start to fear life too. But not him. He was never afraid to live, nor was he to die.

My fondest memory of my uncle comes from the time I spent in India as a child, I must have been 4 or 5 years old then. He was always on the road a lot. He owned a tea plantation, which was pretty far from his home so he was constantly on road trips, and sometimes, he would take me along with him when he went on these trips, long ass fucking drives they were, but, there was never a dull moment with him. He would always take me to his favourite restaurants, well, I say restaurants; they were more like huts on the side of the road. But this is India we’re talking about, so you can get food that’s just as good, if not better from the side of the road, than say a big posh fancy schmansy food joint. The company he worked for covered all his expenses while he was on the road, so if he wanted to, he could have taken me to a restaurant that had a door, and trust me I tried my best to convince him, but that wasn’t his style. All throughout his life he always had this remarkable ability to appreciate simplicity, which I’m sure a lot of us take for granted most of the time, especially current times, where comfort and convenience are necessities. But he would always make sure that we didn’t forget the beauty that lay behind the simple. When we went to his plantation which was located on a mountain range so the climate there was absolutely stunning, you could stay there an entire life time and never not once get bored of it, not any of it. When night would fall over the plantation, the wind would carry in the mist, which would consume the landscape in one big foggy glaze. My uncle he would sit outside, and he would tell me to listen to the wind. And if you really listened, if you really payed attention, you could hear songs hidden within the wind, and once you hear it, you can’t ever not hear it again, you could hear mother-nature humming, and then you would see the mist rolling in and you could feel the cold on your skin. It wasn’t a harsh or bitter cold, it was a gentle and refreshing cold. And if you kept paying attention, you could smell the clean air, and the weird thing is, the air, it even tasted kind of sweet. It’s a truly remarkable experience for all your senses. And in that moment I completely understood why my uncle was so in love with that place. And that understanding, very quickly, turned into adoration.

Before that experience I had never really been able to appreciate anything around me. And after it, I went on an appreciation spree, I went wild with that shit, and continue to do so to this very day. But it was my uncle, who showed me how to listen, what to listen to and how to appreciate even the tiniest thing in front of me. A lot of times we see, and at the same time we don’t see anything at all. My uncle, he saw everything, and I’m always going to admire him for that. And I know one day, when I have kids of my own, I’m going to take them to that plantation and I’m going to show them what he showed me. Cause that’s something that’s always going to be in my heart. Even after I’m gone.

If you’ve read the title you’ll probably assume this blog is about saying goodbye. But weirdly enough, it isn’t. For some reason I find it extremely difficult to say goodbye. I don’t like goodbyes. They’re forever and I don’t like forever, it scares me somewhat. Even at the funeral I found myself asking whether or not I should say goodbye but an overwhelming part of me didn’t want to. Why say goodbye to someone that’s always going be alive in my heart, in my memories? I don’t feel the need for it. There’s just so much I wish I could have said to you in person that I know I won’t be able to. But with any luck, you can see how much everyone misses you, and you can see what you meant to us, and you can see how much we love you. To the man who could see everything. I hope you see this. And where ever you are; I hope you can hear the wind singing, I hope you can see the mist roll in and feel its chill on your skin and I hope the air tastes sweet over there. Here’s to you… ❤

No pictures this time cause I wanted the focus to be uninterrupted. I hope you understand ❤