Good friday, 2003. What an emotional day it’s been. I miss my dad so much. I haven’t talked to him in a while. I’m gonna have to go get a phone card so I can call him. All day today, I was thinking about him, wondering what he’s been up to. I’m sure he went to the 3pm service. I’m not sure if he went to Christ the King Parish or somewhere else closer. I just hope that he’s taking good care of himself.
I just heard some bad news. Apparently, my mom called to let me know that Uncle Ben, the really softspoken, kindhearted gentleman who hosted me my first two days in America, collapsed at work and passed away. I’ve wept all evening. Why do heroes like him have to leave so young and when they’re needed most? I remember vividly Ben preparing me dinner, having a long conversation with me about Ghana and why I was coming all the way to Knox in Galesburg, Illinois. He called STA Travel the following afternoon to arrange my flight on Continental Airlines to Chicago. He paid for the ticket. Mom reimbursed him later. The next morning, September 9th, I think, he took a cab with me from his Bronx Apartment to catch the train. He was very well dressed. He wore a dark suit. We took the train all the way to the World Trade Center stop. He told me which train to transfer to and told me where I could catch a cab to the Newark airport after I got to New Jersey. I got to Galesburg that evening and called a couple of days later to thank him.
I’m saddened. I never got a chance to show enough gratitude to him. I didn’t say enough thanks. Back then, when he took me into his home, I didn’t know that in less than six years he’d be gone. I didn’t know I had just 5 and a half years to show my appreciation.
Uncle Ben was an angel. He was the kind who seemed to never get mad. Soft spoken, quiet, kind. If wishes were horses…
He lived a good life.
May his soul rest in peace