too much for close comfort

they say great men die early. i'm guessing they are being correct at that. both my grandfathers, and my father passed on rather early in their lives. my father being the youngest and most recent to leave in that bunch of loved ones. 

now the thing about talking about death isn't as smooth as announcing a beautiful birth, no matter how peacefully one died. and apparently knowing that he has been ill for some time does not prepare you better to accept his death either.  that, i know, learning about the passing of a deeply loved uncle and father figure just today.

these messed up feelings inside, it doent help that i was still getting texts from him the previous weeks and i have just recently visited him at home personally. accepting that he is gone for good is the kind of awful truth that is not just a goodbye from the gates when he leaves the house from his almost nightly coffee stays with the folks, or when he leaves for long vacations and will be back to talk about it bearing gifts. it is the same feeling of disbelief, still having a bit of hope that he would come over again to the house calling me to open the gates for him just like expecting my father to come home one day from his work-related outstations -- after my father passed. that feeling, like it is a big joke that both my real life supermen are gone. that sort of crazy, is crazy.

i miss you, Papa. 

Uncle Andrew, you have been like another father for me for ever. i have never thought of a day you will be gone, just like Papa. ever!

please rest in peace. i love you both so much it hurts.