Not enough time.

When I was 6 I broke my leg. It was a bad break and I had a cast from my toes to my hip. Uncle Brett came to Post Falls to visit, and I remember he picked me up and held me in the air. I had never been so high off the ground.

He was irritatingly smart. He could tell you the common and scientific names of any animal. He could tell you where it lives, what it does, what it eats. Sometimes I thought he knew everything. He was insufferable to play against in Trivial Pursuit.

He was an emotional person. A person who had made a million mistakes and held each one in his heart. A million regrets can fit in their too.

He passed away a few days ago, suddenly and alone in his apartment. We didn’t find out until last night. Telling my mother that her big brother had died was the worst thing that I’ve ever had to do.

Before he died he kept making plans with me and then literally sleeping through them. I kept falling for it and I was mad at myself for being such an idiot.

And I’m mad at myself now. I feel like I blew him off, but I didn’t.

I think maybe I feel bad that he felt so strongly for me and I don’t know what to say about "my other uncle."