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Uncle Enzo

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“Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.”
Tupac Shakur
It’s not often I remember my dreams.
But yesterday morning’s was particularly vivid. I had gone to a house in the country. My Italian cousin Sara was there – we were playing catch, as I remember. It was a sunny day and we were outside in a field. And then my uncle Enzo, a kindly Italian man, walked in to the room, a room that suddenly appeared out of nowhere – as they do in dreams. Behind him was Auntie Cookie, whose nickname stuck when my mum called her Cookie as a child.
And I remember being happy to see them all. They all live in Italy – I don’t have many opportunities to catch up with them, and I was very pleased as I sat down and chatted for a while with my uncle, all about life and what he was doing. Slowly, he faded. I remember waking up, and wondering how they all were.
Uncle Enzo died yesterday morning, after a short fight with cancer.