As I turn eighteen in about 35 minutes, I can’t help but be harbored with the memory of my uncle who passed away this past June, and who also shared the same birthday as me. Every year I grew, he would grow. Most years he would come by and we’d both share “Happy Birthday”s with each other and laugh at the coincidence. I guess I still feel some amount of guilt with his passing.. The last few times our birthdays came around, my uncle wasn’t able to come visit the house. I could have called or went to visit him but I just didn’t. I didn’t take that time to think about him and I regret that now.. I also regret the night before he died. I knew, I had a gut feeling that he wasn’t going to be alive when I woke up the next morning. I had begged my parents to let me go see him but they said I wouldn’t be able to handle it, emotionally. I should have begged harder. I just wanted to say goodbye. And now as the minutes grow nearer and nearer to the one day we shared for my entire life, I don’t even feel happiness that I’ll be a legal adult. I wish I could just call my uncle and tell him I’m sorry for not saying goodbye. I’m sorry for being a selfish teenager and not thinking of you. Because I sure as hell am thinking about you now. Every birthday I’ll remember him, as I remember him every day. His wrinkled hands that leathered more and more with each passing year, his smile, his laugh as he and my grandfather would reminisce about their childhood in Jordan, just everything. I really miss him, and I wish he was here to share this day with me.