It's been a year. You'd think this would be easier, but it's not.
A year ago on the 15th, I got a phone call that changed everything from dad, I was told that you passed away, and I was trying to study for an exam that night. I knew I should've talked to you more, you commented on my posts saying Roll Tribe and I took those for granted, you were my uncle, the crazy uncle that always knew how to have fun. You were my dad's best friend, you were like a brother that he never had, best friends in marching band and you took the next step and became my uncle. You always loved me and you always knew how to make me laugh no matter what.
I always heard the fun band stories from dad about you and the flaming llama organization, when I was younger I just shrugged them off because I thought they were weird, but now whenever I see someone post about it I always give it a good laugh. I knew that one day I would find friends that were as close as you, dad, and my other uncle was. You guys made my years at the band that much more memorable because I knew then we would all be together on something, now I'm not so sure I can walk into a band room the same or just around town the same anymore.
ROLL TRIBE. Yea, you're probably laughing up there because you know how much it annoyed some people, especially me because every time I saw a notification from Facebook saying you had commented on something I knew exactly what it was and nine times out of ten I just ignored it. Now I wish I hadn't, now I wish that I had liked every single roll tribe comment you had ever posted.
I know that I wasn't around much later on in life, you got a new wife and you were happy, I had to continue my life here at college and for the most part, I was happy with my academics and my relationships I had at the time, little did I know you were going through a battle in your own mind that I didn't really think to check up on my family, they didn't know what was going on in my head, they didn't understand that anxiety, as well as I, could have because it's my head, apparently I was wrong. You had a drinking problem and I knew that you were getting better so I heard, and I was really proud of you, you got better, you went to church more, your wife made you happy, and so did the kids.
I'll admit, nobody saw this coming. Everyone made the assumption that it was all good and dandy, you were happy, you had found someone who could have deep conversations with you. Nobody thought that your mind was turning against you, nobody thought that you were fighting because you were a fighter, you wanted to stay strong. I'll admit too, I didn't walk up and say goodbye like dad and my stepmom did, I didn't want to believe you were really gone. I had hoped that it was all some sick prank and you were just going to pop out and say everything was fine, but deep down I knew you wouldn't. I kept looking at the open area just waiting...
I knew death was hard, I went through my great grandma's death, a cousin, some friends, but I didn't realize how hard this one would be. I didn't think it would be this hard to repress something, sometimes I catch myself looking at your Facebook. Sometimes I catch dad tagging you in something every once in a while and I laugh and my lip quivers a little bit. Sometimes I just scroll past it.
I miss you, we all miss you. Roll Tribe.
Mental Illness is no joke. Seek help on campus at the Counseling Center or any mental health professional. Don't fight your battles alone. You're never alone.
