First Best Friend

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When I was little I barely remember him. He was my uncle on my mom's side. His name was Asher Barton Jr. But we called him B. To me he was Uncle B and he was my best friend. My mom and dad use to tell me about him. They would tell me that he was a great man but kind of a horn dog. But for me he was the cat's meow and we were like two peas in a pod.

The few stories that my parents tell me, I can never recall. They escape me completely. I can't remember not even a spark of any of the stories that they tell me.

The first story they tell me is of him and me falling down a hill at the piece of crap trailer that we lived in at the time. My mom and dad tell me that they were sure that both of us were hurt, because when we went over we both screamed. But when they came and found us, Uncle B and I were laughing and just having a good Ole' time.

Then they tell me another story about him always coming to our house. There are different stories about him just visiting and catching wild cats in card board boxes but I don't remember any of that either. What I do remember is one day I was alone in the house and my parents and uncle B were outside doing some kind of work at the trailer. I was playing in my room and I saw something on the top of my dresser that I wanted. I'd been warned not to climb on my dresser but I didn't listen. So, I started pulling out my drawers and then proceeded to climb up them to the top of the dresser. When I reached the third drawer from the bottom, the dresser started to tip forward and I froze. The dresser fell over with me still attached and toppled onto the edge of my bed, with me crushed between the two. I couldn't breathe. I started to scream and panic because I couldn't wiggle out. Then, Uncle B came in and threw the dresser off of me and picked me up off the edge of the bed and carried me away from the scene.

That was my first really terrifying experience. And the only memory that I have of Uncle B. Now, I look at pictures of him and I wonder which ones are the closest dated to that point in time. I also wonder who the man in the pictures was.

I think about Uncle B all the time and I wonder what he would be like now. I wonder if he would have his beard grown out of if he'd keep it shaved? Would he approve of the way my mom and dad treat me sometimes? Would he like who I'm in love with? Would he be proud of me going into the navy after I get my diploma in June? Would he be proud of how smart I am? What would he be like? Who would he be? I feel like I've missed out on knowing a fantastic person. I feel like I never knew him and yet, I always have. It's very confusing and I think about it often. Usually, the thoughts bring me to tears although I usually retreat to the bathtub to do my crying.

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