The hardest part

The hardest part about being so far away from family is… well, being so far away from family.

Yesterday I spoke with my mom and she gave me sad news about her brother, my uncle.

He is in the hospital and will be going through chemotherapy soon.

Aging is so hard isn’t it?

Not necessarily our own process of aging but watching our elders age.

It always kills me to think about the fact that my parents, aunts and uncles are getting (shall I say it?) old and their health is failing some of them.

To think that I can’t be there for moral support.

To think that I already lost a dear uncle not too long ago and I might be losing another.

The older we all get, the harder it is.

I hope it is not my uncle’s time, it doesn’t feel like his time.

I hope I get to see him again.

Good thoughts for my tio Antonio Carlos.

primo Abel, tio Antonio Carlos, my mom and avo Maria Teresa in Mozambique, early 1950’s