the day you slipped away...

August 4th, 2004. It's been exactly 5 years since I woke up and heard the news that you were gone, that you had died. And I remember it clearly.

It was 5 o'clock in the morning, and being the night-hawk that I am, I was up online chatting with some friends. I was also on webcam. I left the computer to get the remote to turn on the TV, and when I got back my friend had asked me if I went upstairs. Obviously, I said no, I went the complete opposite way of the stairs. When I asked him why, he told me he seen someone walking upstairs. Scared, I got offline and went up to bed.

8 o'clock in the morning, 3 hours after I went to sleep, I woke up to my mom screaming. I automatically assumed she was dreaming, since she always yells in her sleep, that is until I heard my sister screaming a fit. I immediately got up. I walked into my sister's room sure enough to find my mom crouched on the floor holding the phone to her ear, yelling "My brother is dead! Oh my god, I can't believe my brother is dead," and my sister hugging her pillow tight as ever, completely drenched in tears. I asked my dad what had happened,

"Your Uncle Kelly is dead."

I didn't know what to say, feel, or even think. All that came out was "Oh." Moments passed and we travel downstairs, where I'm still half-asleep and so confused. I had never seen my mother so heartbroken. My sister was hugging my waist, still crying. She asked why I wasn't sad, why I wasn't upset like she was. I couldn't respond, because I honestly didn't know why. I didn't know why I wasn't teary-eyed and broken like my mother and my sibling.

At this point we had to tell my Grandmother; the parent of my poor Uncle Kelly. My dad decided he would drive to her work to pick her up so she wouldn't have to drive, because we knew the state she would be in. Here we go. My mother's on the phone; "Can I speak to Diana Reaume please? Thank you." A moment passes, "Mom... I have something to tell you... Just promise me to stay where you are... Carl is going to come and get you, okay?... Just listen to me... Carl will come and pick you up... Okay... Mom, Kelly's dead... He's dead. He died last night..." Just as they were finishing their agnozing conversation, my dad was bolting out the front door, driving away.

As many phone calls were made, and the news passed on, I fell asleep on the couch again. I heard the family members and neighbours and friends piling into the house, but I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to have to suffer the sympathy I was going to receive for the next week, at least. I didn't want to give or receive hugs, I didn't want to hold anybody. I just wanted to be alone.

When I did manage to wake up and escape everyone, I journied to the lowest level of my house. There, I put on Avril Lavigne's "Under My Skin" album and skipped to track 12 as I showed my respect for my lost family member in my screenames online. I just sat back and listened to the lyrics. Listening to the song only once wasn't enough. I had to keep it on repeat. Eventually after listening to it 7 times, it finally got to me. My mom walked downstairs into the basement to tell me more people were over, and she seen me sitting there, head in hands, sobbing harder than I ever have in my life. "Mom... it just hit me... he's gone. I can't believe it. He's gone, Mom." She gave me a quick hug and walked back upstairs. She, herself, didn't want to be near anyone. She just wanted to have her brother back.

It was my very first funeral, in my life, that week. And it was probably my worst. My Grandmother was the first to enter, with my Mother and her other brother, my Uncle Kevin, and of course my Uncle Kelly's wife, Kim. I had just seen a casket at the end of a long room; I didn't see a body in it, but I did see my Grandmother leaned over it, hugging whatever seemed to be in there, and yelling "Oh, my Kelly.... Kelly, my Kelly." The closer we walked, the more I could see. My sister was then grabbing onto my arm, almost breaking it right off from her grip; she immediately clasped her hand over her mouth and sobbed. I couldn't help but say "Oh my god..." as we approached the casket. There he was. Jeans, and his Mark Martin "Nascar" shirt. Asleep. I was almost certain he was going to sit up and make a ridiculous joke, but the problem was, he wasn't going to wake up ever again.

I hold very few regrets in my life, and the few that I do involve my Uncle Kelly. For starters, a massive fued broke out between my Uncle Kelly, my Mother and my Grandmother. Threats were said, cops were called. Being so young when the family broke up, I, of course, sided with my Mother and my Grandmother. My 8th birthday was the last time I had seen him. I used to hang out around his neighbourhood with friends almost everyday growing up in my teen years. I always watched his house, but never even stepped foot on the lawn or driveway. I was too scared. I didn't know if he would remember me or if he would tell me to leave just because of the past feud. Everytime I was in the neighbourhood I would just stop, look, sigh, and continue on my way.

Not a day passes by that I don't regret not knocking on his door, or answering the phone everytime he tried to call. I feel like if I would have, he would still be here. I would still be able to act like a goofball with him, I would still hear his jokes and his childish laugh.

I feel like I was never close to him like everyone else was, even though I feel more hurt than everyone else is and was. My sister was his Goddaughter, I was just his niece. I felt of less importance, but I'm told he really loved me. I never believed this until I came across home videos. He was the only one in the videos that could make me smile, and the only one that could play around with me. I immediately felt special.

Kelly Burleigh, the most amazing Uncle to me, I miss you and I love you. It's been 5 years since you left us, but it feels like yesterday that you were here driving me around in a doorless, roofless Jeep, celebrating all of my birthday's and Christmas with me, breaking my kiddie pools, playing baseball and hockey with us on the road, and of course throwing sparklers into your own car.

I hope someday we meet again.