Well, my uncle died officially on October 17. I saw him before he died. Now, before that moment he was thin, but could still move around and take care of himself. When I saw him at the hospice center, however, he was so enunciated. He looked so different, his black and gray afro was cut down, making it seem as though he had cancer. He had a fever, but the caregivers couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't drink or eat anything, including soup. My mom tried to feed him some chicken broth, but he couldn't swallow it and coughed it back up. My mom read a few prayers and hymns from her Sunday School Bible and tried to console him. You could tell he was doing bad.

When he finally did die, he was cremated and the whole Price family came together and had a luncheon at our house. It was pretty nice.


I wrote a poem about it...