Content warning: This article discusses the death of a loved one.
My grandfather passed away five years ago, and honestly, it hurt in more ways than 14-year-old me thought possible.
But he left behind his identical twin brother, my uncle Angelo.
The first couple of years after my grandfather passed away, I won’t lie, being around my uncle was hard. They were the EXACT same person, so seeing him was honestly just a reminder of what I had lost. But, as time went on, he became my “buddy.” Instead of being a reminder of what I lost, my uncle became a reminder of all of the best parts of my grandpa.
When I started college, my dad told me that he would help me pay for the important things, but coffee wasn’t important. Uncle Angelo disagreed. So, every time he saw me, or my grandmother, or my father, he slipped us a 20-dollar bill. “For coffee,” he’d say, then I’d get a text about how he hoped I was doing well, and he was proud of me. The text always ended with a thumbs-up emoji and “Love, Uncle Angelo.”
Uncle Angelo was sick, though. Sometime after my grandfather died, he got diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. That cancer is supposed to be quick. He lasted way longer. I got used to the texts, him occasionally showing up at my house with a hunting rifle to show my father, the car shows, everything.
This past summer, he couldn’t seem to stay out of the hospital. I remember my mom warning me that he wouldn’t last too much longer, and her saying I should prepare myself. I would randomly text him, saying I loved him or I was thinking of him. Sometimes I got a text back, other times it was his daughter answering saying he read it, and he appreciated it.
Then, on Friday, Aug. 29, as I was finishing up packing to move back to school, my parents sat me and my siblings down and told us Uncle Angelo had passed away that day. My first instinct was to unpack; I wasn’t leaving my family to move over an hour away when our world felt like it was crumbling.
When I went home for fall break, I had to attend his funeral.
All anyone kept saying was that he was with his twin now, which honestly made it worse. Not only was I mourning my uncle, who passed away recently, but I was mourning my grandpa all over again.
After the funeral, my Uncle Angelo’s daughter walked up to me and told me that Uncle Angelo had a little something for me, because I was his buddy. In a gift bag, there was his Irish pen and two 20-dollar bills, so I wouldn’t go without coffee money.
My uncle Angelo tried so hard to be a grandfather figure for me after his twin passed away. I loved him for it, but that meant I lost my grandpa again.
So, Mineo brothers, I hope you’re enjoying a “Timmy Ho’s” coffee up there together. Thank you for being the pillars of our family, even after you’re gone. I love you both.