Post by dreamer6 on Mar 2, 2002 1:05:12 GMT -5
Okay, my uncle died. He was the first friend/relative that I have ever known personally to die. The story:
One night, Kevin got a call. His youngest daughter, Karlan, could tell that someone had died by the look on his face. She thought it was that old man from her church who had heart problem. But it wasn't. Mom and Dad called Karlan, Katherine, and Michael into their room. "Kids," they said in a solemn voice, "Uncle Tim is in the hospital. He has a serious liver problem, and there is no stopping it; he will die." "Isn't there anything we can do," his crying children asked him. "No, I'm affraid not." Karlan couldn't sleep. She cried all day at school, and then got home and cried some more. Two days later, Tim died. He was suicidal. He took an overdose of tylenol, which destroyed his liver, something you cannot live without. He loved his dauschunds and watching Disney movies. He did drugs and was inactive at his church. There were so many sides of him. Karlan did not get to go to the funeral. Her dad went to Utah to be with him in his last days and the funeral. It was the happiest funeral ever. While still alive, Tim lovingly listened to what was going on with us, and sent his love. Karlan saw him for the last time on their Utah vacation, 4 years ago. She loved him very much. Tim was actually adopted, but what did that matter? After he was cremated, the funeral people said that the ashes would be late, so they would be sent by mail to the middle of the three other brothers. Imagine a postman going to your house, knocking on the dor, and saying, "Special delivery for you. Please sign here. Okay, here's your brother."
THE END
Epilogue:It has been one year since my uncle died, yet I still cry. Is it okay? Should I be over it by now? Please comfort a comfortless soul. Love,
[glow=red,2,300]Hellan[/glow]
One night, Kevin got a call. His youngest daughter, Karlan, could tell that someone had died by the look on his face. She thought it was that old man from her church who had heart problem. But it wasn't. Mom and Dad called Karlan, Katherine, and Michael into their room. "Kids," they said in a solemn voice, "Uncle Tim is in the hospital. He has a serious liver problem, and there is no stopping it; he will die." "Isn't there anything we can do," his crying children asked him. "No, I'm affraid not." Karlan couldn't sleep. She cried all day at school, and then got home and cried some more. Two days later, Tim died. He was suicidal. He took an overdose of tylenol, which destroyed his liver, something you cannot live without. He loved his dauschunds and watching Disney movies. He did drugs and was inactive at his church. There were so many sides of him. Karlan did not get to go to the funeral. Her dad went to Utah to be with him in his last days and the funeral. It was the happiest funeral ever. While still alive, Tim lovingly listened to what was going on with us, and sent his love. Karlan saw him for the last time on their Utah vacation, 4 years ago. She loved him very much. Tim was actually adopted, but what did that matter? After he was cremated, the funeral people said that the ashes would be late, so they would be sent by mail to the middle of the three other brothers. Imagine a postman going to your house, knocking on the dor, and saying, "Special delivery for you. Please sign here. Okay, here's your brother."
THE END
Epilogue:It has been one year since my uncle died, yet I still cry. Is it okay? Should I be over it by now? Please comfort a comfortless soul. Love,
[glow=red,2,300]Hellan[/glow]
It's okay to still be grieving over something that happened a long time ago.
&& &&^Hottie!^&&
