Dear Uncle Sebastian,
I miss you.
When you passed away, people hid it from me for a week, but I knew something was wrong.
You were the reason I would go to Sicily, and now it's not the same without you.
I wish I wrote you more, I wish I called you more, I wish I sent you more of my artwork that you liked to see.
Did you know this photo of you won me awards? I even sold a copy.
When I was little, I always thought you were a gentle gorilla. You were always so calm and wise. You knew what was going on without having to say a word. But the final word was yours, always.
Sicilian tradition, Sicilian respect.
Your voice was very gentle, and when I asked you how you how you courted my Aunt Maria, you laughed and said you went to her house everyday until she said yes.
I miss our laughing about how she would always yell about the remote being on the table...
You were lucky in the war, but not so lucky as a parent.
I wished we'd lived closer so I could come hear your stories more often.
My favourite uncle.
I love you so much.