they found my uncle this morning, dead in his apartment

he was my favorite. he was my godfather. he was the one who told me stories about his younger brother, my father, who'd died before i was old enough to know him and appreciate him.

he called me his 'little lady'. no matter as the years went by and i was no longer a little girl, i was still his 'little lady'.

when i was born, he told me all of my father's friends were willing to fight to see who'd be my godfather. he told them they'd be wasting their time because 'this little lady is mine.'

he told me he fell in love with me on sight.

he said he remembered holding me for the first time and how i slept in his arms and didn't make a sound.

the last time i was in his presence, he was handing me a twenty to pay for my cab to the airport. then he hugged me tightly. i couldsmell the combination of his cologne and his favorite drink on his clothes (he was a smirnoff vodka man, straight, no chaser cuz chasers was for punks). that was last month.

the night after we buried his brother, my other uncle, uncle curt had me laughing so much as he told us stories about how he was part of a gang and how the gang actually had a war counselor.

"a WAR COUNSELOR???" i asked in amazement.

" why yes, little lady," he replied. "i was the president, then we had a vice president, a secretary of treasury, and a war counselor."

my brother and i looked at each other and grinned. that wasn't a gang, that was a club, like the 4-h club. he and the rest of the guys there said they were like 'the warriors' from that movie, only better. aswad and i laughed some more. that was a great night.


when i spoke to him last week, he told me he loved me so much. we were talking about him being retired and coming to visit me. he said he had to bring one of his 'senior citizens'. it wasn't until later i realized he meant he had to bring one of his 'big ladies..." i laughed so hard when he told me his mom, my granny, called him a couple of months back asking him what he was doing. well, he was getting busy with one of his 'senior citizens', but he couldn't tell her that. imagine that...a brotha 65 years old getting him some booty. and then telling his niece he was still getting some.

we talked for at least two hours that day, about everything that was on our minds and in our hearts. we poured ourselves into that moment, finding a common bond in our love for each other. that was truly the best conversation i'd ever had with him. it was as if my father orchestrated it, as if he knew it was to be our last conversation with each other. daddy made sure it was perfect.

thank you god, for letting me get to know him better before he left me.
thank you god, for giving me the gift of his unconditional love.
thank you god, for letting me keep him for as long as i could.

he was such a good man. please take care of him up there, will you? i'm gonna miss him so much i really am.

i love you so much uncle curt. i'm so glad you knew how much.