Fifteen Minutes

My Uncle supposedly “disappeared” the year I was born.

We’ll just say “the seventies”, lol….

Nobody in my family said too much about him when I was younger, except my Mimi.

Mimi had three sons.  My dad is the oldest, the youngest lives with my dad and it’s the “middle child” who went missing.

Mimi loved that middle son more than any of her other sons.  I know this because she told me.  Mimi also told me that SHE LOVED ME more than all three of her sons put together.

My missing uncle only came up in conversation rarely until I became a teenager and starting acting in a rebellious manner.  It was then that I start being compared to the long lost uncle.  I think I remember my beloved Mimi comparing me to him, once or twice.

When I became addicted to the hard drugs and really started giving my parents shit, then many of the nasty secrets about the lost uncle started to surface.

Things about schizophrenia, mental hospitals, drugs, drugs, more drugs, wrecking cars, hearing voices, beating kittens in a sack with a baseball bat….

I am now semi-aggressively (depends on my mood each day) searching for my missing uncle.  

I have been given many strict ultimatums from my father, throughout the years, NEVER EVER TO DO THIS, even though my Mimi, asked me (without asking, you see) to find her son and tell him how much she loved (loves) him.

I believe this is the reason for my fifteen minutes….and they are ticking…so please, Uncle, talk to me….I have things to tell you.


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