Uncle Fred stood up just when I came in the living room. He looked haggard and all. It seemed like he was holding back emotions in him. On my part, I stared at him and getting teary-eyed. When I wasn’t able to hold it anymore, I hugged him and started to cry.
“It’s okay, dear. It’s gonna be okay,” Uncle Fred tried to comfort me as he hugged me back.
For a year of being with Jazz, I was treated by Uncle Fred and Aunt Veronica as their own daughter.
“He’s gone and I’m never gonna see him anymore.”
“He’ll just be around us, watching and guiding us,” then he looked at me and said, “All these times, you’ve been like a daughter to us. I know how much my son loved you and how you loved him as well. I’ve never thanked you enough for taking care of him when we’re not around. We are grateful that you’ve become a part of us. You are very important to our son, Nikki. I want you to take this,” he handed me the white box that he was holding. It was tied with a pink ribbon.
I wondered what was inside the box.
“We found that in his room as we tried to organize things up. We didn’t open it because we’re not in the right position to do so. I bet that is for you to open and keep.”
“How did you know it was for me?”
“On the side of the box, Jazz a scripture. You’d soon find out what that means. Anyway, I have to go. I still have to help my wife with the preparation of the funeral services.”
“Okay, dad,” ever since Jazz and I started dating, Uncle Fred asked me to call him dad and treat them as my own parents.
“I have to go now. I’ll see you on the wake,” Uncle Fred bid goodbye to us.
After a while, I read the inscription Uncle Fred talked about. Beside the box was written…
Pro mulier volo consumo eternus tripudium
I wondered what that means.
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