Iâ€™ve heard a lot of sad news lately; of people passing awayâ€¦ loved ones, people Iâ€™ve known and strangers I wish Iâ€™d known.
Last month, my uncle N. passed away after several years of illness.
It was hard on my mom; he was her first cousin, but older and more like an uncle whom she adored dearly.
I didnâ€™t know my uncle N. very well; I only met him a few times but I remember him fondly.
My uncle loved tradition; he was an oral historian who told incredible stories of ancestors I wouldn’t have known otherwise.
His narratives were always riveting with mythical elements.
I loved the stories because it was a connection to exploring my lineage.
I wore black the day after we got the news.
It was a sunny spring day, and all around me were nature’s colours; greens and pinks, and whites and blues…
But I wore black… in reverence to my uncle… because it’s tradition.