My Uncle Paul wasn't much older than me.

[rbnyc]

My grandparents divorced and my grandpa married a younger woman. They had 2 boys just a few years before my parents had me. I remember kids at school teasing my Uncle Paul because I called him Uncle Paul.

He had a stutter when he was younger. I remember my mom would tell him to sing what he was trying to say - and when he sang it, he could get all the words out.

He was very sensitive, and kind of a misfit. That's why I related to him so much. My childhood was very hard. When my parents divorced and my mom and dad each went through deep struggles, I suffered very much living with my mother. I was abused and neglected and it was difficult for the family to absorb, so I made people feel uncomfortable. I was a misfit like my Uncle Paul.

Uncle Paul and I always accepted each other and had a special affinity as children.

He was also very close to his older brother, my Uncle Marc.

When I went off to college, and later traveled around the country, I lost touch with almost everybody in my family. I was taking care of myself, doing my own thing, building my own life. I let a lot of relationships go, some on purpose, and some just because they were no longer near.

When I was getting married, I really wanted my Uncle Paul to come to the wedding, so I started asking family members about him, trying to find him. I heard he was not doing very well, and when I finally spoke to him, I could tell he was not well. He did not believe in himself. He said he couldn't afford to travel to the wedding. When I said I would see if I could afford to fly him, he perked up and I could tell he was trying to figure out how much money he could get out of me. He sounded like an addict.

He was an addict.

I let him go.

He died several days ago, alone in his trailer. We think he drank himself to death. We're not sure. He was only just found yesterday, Friday. My dad called me to tell me.

My dad had a sister, and he lost her almost the exact same way, except she was found the next morning by her daughter, my cousin, who was about 10 years old at the time.

I can't sleep. I was writing earlier about a co-worker who showers me with contempt every day at work.

I have to go to work tomorrow. I have a 14 hour day tomorrow. I have a lot to do and no one else can do it.

I should be sleeping but I have this horrible feeling.

If there was a time that my Uncle Paul could have been saved, I missed it.

Let us not be mean to each other tomorrow.