It started out like any other weekend. Go to bed late on Friday, sleep in Saturday, make a bowl of cereal, and watch whatever cartoon was on in my favorite bright pink, soft pajamas.  As for the rest of the day, it was a blur. I probably wore my fun pajamas all day, played Polly Pockets with my little sister, did my homework, and cleaned my room a little. The only thing that I did notice was unusual was that my dad wasn’t home all day. Also my mom had made a few weird calls, hanging up the phone with a concerned face. My dad home late around 11 at night. I was on the couch in the living room watching Hannah Montana, and my little sister was passed out on the other side of the couch. I jumped up when he opened the door. “Dad! Your home! Where were you? I missed you…” I gave him a big hug.  He stood tall in the doorway but his posture was a little off, his shoulders hunching in a bit. Also he wasn’t smiling. His face was blank and sad.
         “Uncle Mike is dead,” My dad said softly, “he killed himself.”
         “What?” I said very confused “You’re kidding right?” I asked him. I was hoping that he was just messing around in a very cruel manner, even though he never did.
         “No. He killed himself. Shot himself.” He looked even sadder than before. My dad took off his shoes before slowly disappearing into the dark dining room. I sat back on the couch turning off the television with the remote. I sat there so confused, what did he mean? Uncle Mike was dead. I saw him only a week or two ago.  My dad’s voice kept playing in my head “Uncle Mike is dead.” I could picture him, his warm smile and big hands and feet, and how tall he was. He was like a bear.  I tried to remember the last words I said to him, and the last words he said to me. Maybe “Goodbye! I love you!” or “See ya later.” I also tried to remember the last hug and kiss I gave him but I just couldn’t.  How on earth could he be dead? I’ve seen it on the news that people kill themselves, but never anyone that I knew and loved. I didn’t understand I was only 7. After several minutes of thinking to myself on the couch, I got up and went to the dining room where my dad was.
         When I went into the dining room it was dark except for the light of the computer screen lighting up the room, casting shadows in an almost creepy way. My dad sat alone, looking at the computer screen going through pictures him and his brother. It made me feel sad. I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. I saw the pictures of my uncle with my family and his family going camping, trick or treating, Christmas, Easter, Fourth of July, Birthdays, Super Bowl parties, and the fairly uneventful but fun Saturdays at each other’s houses playing cards. I thought I saw a tear streak my dad’s face but he wiped it away. I felt really sad, but still things were not real yet. How could my uncle be gone? For the rest of the week everyone in my family was sad, shedding a few tears every now and then, but I still never cried. I felt sad but I just didn’t feel like everyone else I guess. It wasn’t until the next weekend when everything started to feel real.
I couldn’t stay up late Friday because I had to wake up early Saturday morning. When I woke up I made my bowl of cereal I sat at the dining room table. I had to put on a boring, itchy, black dress and tights and flats that were half of a size to small. That was the day of the funeral, the day it all became real to me.
We took a long quite car ride to the funeral home.  We walked into to the funeral home, it had a gross floral smell that instantly made my head hurt. There was a fancy chandelier the hung on the tall sealing, reflecting on the patterned red rug. There was a small sitting room with tissues and a few couches. Everyone there was wearing black.  I walked into the room where my uncles’ viewing was. The room was full of flowers, all different colors. There were many seats and couches in the room, and end tables with lamps on them and tissues on them. At the end of the room there was a wooden casket, on top of the casket there was a picture of my uncle with roses all around it.
My family slowly made our way up to the casket. My mom bent down and whispered softly into my ear, “Say a prayer for Uncle Mike.” She pointed to the kneeler in front of the casket. I did. I kneeled and prayed that my uncle was happy in heaven, and for his family, that my cousins would be okay without their dad. I touched the casket, looked at the picture of my uncle, and silently said “Goodbye, I love you,” to him.  There was a lump in my throat, my chest tightened, and I couldn’t breathe. My uncle Mike was gone. I missed him, and all of the fun memories with him. I cried and I cried, the tears flowing from my eyes like a river. I was sad, very sad. I wanted to be back at home, in my pajamas, playing games with my little sister, while watching Disney.