I'm sorry if I spelled your name wrong and I'm sorry for a lot of things. I'm sorry for not getting this letter to you sooner, before you died, but I figure maybe I'll stop procrastinating from now on. Hameen's taking your death really hard and Savannah has too because she's really emotional, and of course that comes from mom, but currently all I could think about right now is reflecting.
Maybe I'll seize the day from now on. As a matter of fact, that's one thing I wanted to talk about. I'm so proud of you and everything you've done. My mom was bragging today about you and how you accomplished more in your 93 years than we will ever will. Well she said in your elder years, at least, you have succeeded more than we ever will. I'll always remember your wall full of trophies and medals and how you always had subtitles on the tv and your plastic on your furniture. I'm going to miss it a lot. I remember the cookouts we had and the way you said 'Carl' and how you wiped the floor with us at darts that one time. And I just wanted to write this letter on October 4th, 2009 to tell you that you have inspired me and surely you will be missed. We're all trying our hardest to be strong but it's kind of hard to say goodbye. Nonetheless, I know you're in a better place and I'll be seeing you soon and you can tell me about how much I've grown and I'll be able to tell you how much I missed you. We all reach this point sometime, but at 93, oddly enough, I can say that it was too soon and I thought you'd live to be a million. It sounds crazy but for some reason it makes the most sense in the world to me.
I assure you everything will be fine. Uncle Jackie will be alright and Ten ell (again, I'm sorry for the spelling) and Tredessa will stop fighting immediately and make up and the rest of the family will get together and we'll remember you and the happy times and everything will be just fine.
I miss you Aunt Bernice, and I'll love you always
Michael
