Goodbye Taxi Uncle

I grew up knowing my little uncle who is the second youngest in my mother's side of the family. He was a quiet man, loving, kept to himself, approachable and most of all, his nickname was Little Taxi Uncle because his profession was a cab driver in the night shift. When my mom was here in US, I vividly remembered that we were running around looking for a jacket to keep him warm, and I hear stories about him from my mom, how he treasured stuff, esp. this portable Polaroid dvd player. That was his form of entertainment during his late night breaks from driving. My dad would tape as many shows for him when he is here from our Comcast channels line up.

Even though, I have not seen him for about 18 years, I managed to speak to him couple of times last month when he was in the hospital. I told him that I missed him and to get better. Last evening, he passed away. This morning, I was crying in my car on my way to work when I read a text message from my cousin in Malaysia. Sometimes, life is hard to let go. I have not seen him for so long, I wished I had. He was a part of my life growing up. Growing up back then was simple and a priceless experience.

I wish my little taxi uncle safe journey. I will always remember you, the stories that was told about you and most of all, my ride in your taxi growing up, sitting next to you in the front. How cool was that! I love my little taxi uncle. We all do.