Catache

This poem was written for my uncle. A lot of things are made in memory of loved ones. Only this time, in my situation this poem really liberated me. I have experienced cancer before, but never in this severity. I was scared, and angry, and confused, for a man who felt none of that. He did not welcome death, or pretended to lack fear of it.
Although he was very aware of everything in his last days, more disease in one's body does not mean less character.
He was a simple man who made mistakes. A man who fixed cars. But even in his condition, he remained an amazing man grateful for life, and capable of forgiveness. ♥