A Little Something from an Ikeda

The feeling of surrealism becomes real all of the sudden when an artifact is in your hands. My younger uncle died of a massive stroke month ago. He was a sweet lad, an uncle that I'm not close with. He is the baby sibling of all five kids- and the only unexpected kid. My great grandmother had him when she was in her 40's. Because of that, he was born with some learning disability and autism. I have some fond memories of meeting him for first time- I asked him if I could have his 3D camera, and he wouldn't say yes or no. He showed me the printed pictures instead and it was so cool! I also timed his timing in the bathroom, he spent 3 hours showering, shaving, and relaxing. After he came out, me and my 11 years old self asked him why it took him long there. He nodded and walked into his room. He liked to have camera with him at all times so he could capture things that fascinated him. I never had conversation with him but I kind of knew by having each others' presence is enough.

It is hard for me to describe my feelings when I learned he had a stroke all by himself at his mobile home. He spent five days on the floor until his pastor came in. The whole ordeal broke my heart and it made me much afraid of being alone. But the last time I saw Sam was maybe more than ten years ago. It didn't feel real since all of this happened in Florida.

But just until my grandmother sent me his stuff that she think I'd like to have.

It was that camera he refused to let me have when I was 11! I smiled when I held it in my hands. At first I felt like I was getting mail from my grandmother but until I saw Sam's mailing label placed on the camera. It hit me, it belonged to him. It is his. He labeled because it was his property and because if someone found it- he would have hoped to get it back. It just showed how much he valued the camera. One small symbolic interaction provided this transparency to his feelings. To his relationship with the camera. I felt empty and sad but then I turned it around, with this realization that I have something that was important to him with me now. I now have a little bit of something from Sam with me. I felt instead of having his spirit with me, I have something physical. He lived a grand life, he ran in many races and frequently ate cereal for dinner. He sure lived life his way, and I intend to follow in his footsteps.