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Little Reggie
It felt like somebody was standing on top of me. I couldn’t breathe. I stared at the blood stain in the snow. I started crying by my mom’s side. This would go down as one of the worst days of my life….
On March 3, 2011, I went to 7th grade as usual. It was the last hour of the day, and I walked out from school with a happy face. I had to ride the bus to the Jr High. I got off the bus to meet my mom as she was an Assistant, supervising students as they scramble to the buses. When we were in the car, I looked at my mom while she was driving on the road to go to her office. I saw the sadness in her eyes, and she told me what happened. Then the good day was gone.
I asked, “Mom what happened?”
She said, “Your uncle Bucky died at 2 in the morning.”
Then we went to my mom’s office at First Student. After my mom got everything done, we left for home. We got home; it was silent, till she broke the news.
My mom said, “Sit in the living room for a minute.”
I said, “Ok mom.”
After the talk, I went to my room and cried because he was my best friend. My mom told me that he died while driving a snowmobile; that he crashed with his right ski hitting the tree.
He died by Hilltop Bar. My dad drove us to where he died. I got out of the car. I felt cold and sadness at the same time. While I was walking with my mom to the tree, I thought about how my uncle called me his Reggie.
I said, “Mom, I am his Reggie.”
She said, “Yes, you are his Reggie for life.”
This day I felt part of me died with him. I saw where he crashed, spots of blood in the snow, his tracks, and the tree. It made me sick. My mom saw a carved heart on the tree. I saw it too. People put flowers around the tree. We walked back to Hilltop and had pizza there for lunch, but it was hard to be normal.
I had to skip two days of school for the wake and the funeral. I went to both places. At the wake my uncle Bucky’s friend’s wife, told me to move so other people could see him. After she said that I felt very mad. I felt like she had no business telling me this. I was standing in front of the coffin of my favorite uncle. I wanted to take as much time as I could. I couldn’t stop thinking that this would be the last time I see him. Some people can touch a dead body, but I can’t do it. At the funeral he looked so peaceful and well in the coffin. I felt happy that he was going to a good place but I was also sad that I will never be able to talk to him again.
Everyone loses people that they care about and love. He was my friend that I could talk to if I needed something. I was very close with him, and he will always be remembered as my Uncle Bucky and a part of me will always remain his “little Reggie.”
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This article has 1 comment.
People have bad time in death like I had my uncle Bucky and my grandma. These people I was very close to them.