Dear friend,

Have I ever told how beautiful a butterfly is? I hadn’t seen once since the start of summer, and just the other day one flew next to me. I held out my hand to harbor its soft touch and to stare at the yellow silk of its wings, each flutter as gentle as the wink of an eye. I remember my uncle loves butterflies, and since I never had the chance to say goodbye, I like to think that butterfly was him… His one last wink of approval. Our goodbye.

Ten weeks now, since the cancer took him away. Yet I like to remember him as he was, and still is, always joyful as a butterfly. Though, I find it hard to believe he’s actually gone. He was so young and had so much going for him. Now I am often left wondering why bad things always happen to good people, especially my uncle. I know that from the day he was born he lived his glory days in full. In doing so he left just as big an impression on me as with his own son. He was just that kind of man, the rare kind that is, always open with everyone. I haven’t yet lived my glory days, but my uncle has opened my eyes to many things, and I know they will come. I just have to be patient.

The holidays are forthcoming and this time around things aren’t going to be so familiar. Every year my uncle was always the life of the party. He was the one who brought everyone together, you know, to achieve that family-unity thing. But he would want us to go about celebrating the holidays as if nothing has changed. And we all know he’ll be watching, as the butterfly of our hearts.

The reason I wrote this letter is because I feel as though I need to say what’s on my mind… I trust you.

My kinship always,
Jammy