Stupid Thinking Habits...

So it's one of those times. The times where counting sheep or backwards from 100 just won't cut it. Like the nights Ishmael would stay up not able to sleep. My reasons are much different from his. I haven't seen death. Every time I close my eyes, they open right back up due to some subconcscious thought or nagging feeling that I have forgotten something. I consider myself a thinking person. Just like my brother, I would like nothing more than to keep to myself and let other people do the talking. This is a great part of the reason I tend not to participate in class discussions very much. Another reason is because I hate speaking in front of groups of people. Frankly, it scares the bejeezus out of me and makes me cry almost every time. You'd probably laugh hysterically if you saw the video of my Valedictory Address...it was awful. Of course, one of the reasons it was so bad was because my uncle made a surprise appearance. Since his accident, I haven't been able to go a single visit without crying or at least tearing up. I'm just so grateful that God decided not to take him away from us. Even sitting here right now writing this I have tears in my eyes. I just remember waking up that Saturday morning in March of my junior year by my mom telling me that Uncle Bear had been in an accident and was in the ICU at Loyola in Chicago. I had to go to work that day so my parents wouldn't let me come with. They said it was probably for the best. The doctors didn't know if he would make it through the night, and my parents later said I wouldn't have wanted to see him like that. It was another month before I finally got to visit him. Through those weeks, I spent many days in school with tears in my eyes. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, or else I'd break down. So anyways, I finally went with my parents to see my uncle, the baby of his family. As soon as I walked in and saw the machines and feeding tube, tears started running down my face. My uncle just looked at me and said, "It's ok, He decided it wasn't my time. He sent me my guardian angels to take care of me." Needless to say, that day alone was hard. Then the next 4 months came along. He was moved to a nursing home. My 48 turning 49 year old uncle was in a nursing home. Those months were filled with biweekly visits and lots of Good 'n Plenty candy. The last visit we made to the nursing home before his 49th birthday and my senior year, he said he had a surprise for us. He maneuvered himself to his wheelchair and rolled to the bathroom where there were supports to help him stand. He hoisted himself up and said, "Look, I can stand up to pee now." My mom and I just started laughing while we were crying. This was the first time we got to see him stand since the accident. Now, over a year and a half since his accident, he still uses a cane for balance but walks half a mile every day. He has the mental capacity of a ten year old and takes everything to heart. He gets so scared that he's not the son my Nana and Papa want him to be that he can't sleep for a week. Just this past Father's Day, he started making jokes again. Keep in mind, he's always been the funny one in our family. Although he's slowly progressing to the old Barry, we know he'll never be that Barry again. We love him all the same. Just this past week, I called to wish him a happy 50th birthday. I don't think I've ever been so glad to be able to wish someone happy birthday. So maybe since I finally let all that out, I will be able to go to sleep. For those of you that actually read this, feel special. I've never shared all of that with anyone...Goodnight all! BTW, this is my uncle Bear :)