my uncle mo

I’ve wanted to write this post for years, for some reason I wasn’t ready until now.

This post is about my Uncle Mo and for my aunt, my cousins, my family and for everyone who has ever experienced an illness, especially very young.

My Uncle Mo is and was…

Strong, and

Powerful, and

Fierce, and

so very Beautiful.

I don’t think there are enough words to explain him. He was definitely intriguing.

My Uncle Mo and I never really had long conversations about life or business or about our illnesses. He never complained, like I never complained. It was what it was, and it is what it is.

My Uncle Mo and I had a special connection. Not always perfect. Our families sometimes were not always at peace.

When I looked at him, and he looked at me, we knew exactly what it feels like. The pain. And the suffering. And the wondering why? The feeling of your heart just hurting and your mind just craving something impossible. But then the feeling of never giving up, no matter how low it gets.

We were both so ill so young.

My Uncle Mo would have given all of his money for a healthy body. And I would give all of my money for a healthy brain, if it exists. Or even to not have gone through what I went through.

Every single dollar, just for one thing: peace.

I know what it’s like to want peace. He wanted it just like I want it. But in Buddhism they say most never reach it until the final stretch.

My Uncle Mo has a very special place in my heart and my soul. Just like my aunt and my cousins do. I think of him quite often, mostly because of our connection. A connection of the most horrible parts of life, yet when I think of him, I think of his strength. And then it reminds me of my strength.  

I hope he has the healthiest body and is in a place of peace and love, and I am so excited to see him one day and just hug him and look at him, and not have a conversation about life or business or about our illnesses. But to just finally sit in peace with him. And both of us to be healthy in the end.

My Uncle Mo took risks. He lived life when he could like we all should.

I hope I am making you proud. Taking risks. Loving my friends and family. Living life as best I can and to the fullest I can. Being compassionate and kind. But also keeping an edge and the Mercanti attitude. We all know it and we all have it.

I can’t wait to see you.

I love you.

And it’s hard some days here, but I am doing pretty awesome.