I’m sad. My only uncle, my favorite relative, has died. I don’t ponder questions that usually come with such occurrences, such as, “Why him?” “Why now?” “What did he do to deserve such an early death?” because such questions really don’t matter. Death happens.

I’m sad because I won’t hear his Florida twang in his scruffy voice ever again. Sad because I won’t feel the prickly stubble of his graying 5 o’clock shadow as I hug him. Sad because I won’t experience that special feeling when I sit talking to him at family gatherings, knowing I’m his favorite, too, not because of any words that have been said, but knowing nonetheless. Sad because I’m 3000 miles away from any family and during times like these it would be so comforting to drive across town just to be with others who loved him too.

I’m sad just because.