On Christmas
I became your uncle.
I write to you, to let you know
Emmie has uncles.

You would be an uncle
to those uncles.

(And I am mad at you!)

You would be here with us.
I miss you more than you know.
I hold it all in, but tears flow,

(And I am mad at you!)

I am so sorry. I wish I could have done more for you.
I wish I could have reached out and held you, and
Told you that I loved and cared for you, and that
I would do anything for you,
even if I was scared for you.

(And I miss you.)

It’s six years to the day, we laid you in your grave.
I am so sad right now,
but I sit in my cave
wondering what the fuck
was going on in your mind that day.

(And we love you.)

I can barely hear your voice in my head anymore.
So sad that the meds took it away.

I cry while the leaves fall.
I cry because you won’t see them

(And we hope you’re o.k.)

or play basketball with Emerson
or
tell a joke
to make her smile.

(And not afraid,)

I am sullen with the moon.

A gift from Heaven, taken from the world too soon.
Why?
I can never guess.

(You are a beautiful one.)

A gift.
A beautiful gift.

I wonder about you.
I will wonder
till I join you.

(And I am mad at you.)
(And I am mad at you.)
(And I miss you.)
(And we love you.)
(And hope that you are o.k.)
(And not afraid.)

(You are a beautiful one.)

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.