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Spaghetti and Pork Chops
We arrived at a small home filled with tons of people roaming and mingling with others. The house looked like it could only hold a few people under its roof. The large number of people forced others to sit outside on the porch or in the backyard. We parked our car across the street and began our long journey to the small house in the hot summer heat. It was early afternoon and the sun was rising right above us. We entered the house and were greeted by the large crowd of people immediately. Included with them was an old man with little grey hairs on his shiny scalp. He was on the chubby side and was eating from a plate that had many delightful foods such as ribs, spaghetti, potato salad, and collard greens. He turned and looked at me and said, “Sonja them boys of yours just keep on growing. I wonder what your grocery bill looks like.” As I kept walking and entered the kitchen, where I saw my aunts that I knew very well. I looked back and as my mother entered the kitchen I asked her, “Who was that momma?” She turned to me and said, “That’s your uncle…” and then she said a name (which I never really did remember that name, just his bald face with little grey hairs on top). We continued our experience at the small house. I remember eating the best fried pork chops that I have ever tasted. It was smothered in our family’s homemade barbeque sauce, which was nothing more than regular barbeque sauce mixed with hot sauce and boiled in a pot. I played with my cousins and met new people that were a part of my family. We had fun watching movies with my cousins and playing games outside in the front yard. We stayed together with our family until the sun began to descend from the sky. I went to kitchen and made a plate consisting of those outstanding pork chops with some chicken and cole slaw on the side. As I began to head for the front door I passed the old man with the little grey hairs on the top of his head. He said, “I’ll see you and the gang later Sonja. I love you”. I didn’t really care so I did not respond to that remark; I just kept walking towards the door.
Later that month my mom came home and was very upset. My dad followed and asked my brothers and I to sit on the couch in the family room. He slowly and steadily told us that our uncle was dead. When my father told me this I didn’t know how to react because I didn’t know whom he was talking about. He tried to describe him but I could not recall who he was talking about. The next week we attended the wake because we were not going to be able to attend the funeral. My brothers and I had football games that weekend. When we arrived at the wake we were greeted by some of the same people that we saw at his house two weeks ago. This time everybody was in a softer mood. People were reminiscing on the past and sharing stories about the deceased. I greeted my cousins and made my way to the front to take a look inside the casket. Once I got there I was stunned by the body that I looked at. It was the man that I took for granted, the same man that I ignored when he told me that he loved me, a man with a bald face and little grey hairs on top. I stood there as if I was waiting for something to happen to wake me up from a bad dream. My mother walked up behind me and asked me if I remembered him now. Sadly, but surely, I nodded my head.
Seeing that body in that casket put a lot of things into perspective for me. It made me realize that every moment on this earth is a blessing. That everyday you wake up you should get at least one step closer to your ultimate goal. And that if you don’t then you are simply wasting your life. I also learned to take advantage of every moment that you have because in a quick second it may not be there. Every second with a loved one counts.
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