He had been hospitalized for a while, around two weeks. My parents gave us little information on his condition (I.e. the reason for his hospitalization, his improvement/deterioration, etc) but we went to visit every day. He asked my mother to spend the night there so he wouldn’t be lonely, but I had school so I was not allowed. That night I dreamt of him. We were on the porch swing at his house, eating plums from the tree in his backyard, and he was telling me stories about my dad and his son (my “uncle”) when they were little and how they were always in trouble. After awhile he pulled me in close and gave me a big hug and a smile, said “Gotta go, sis,” got up off the swing, and walked away. When I woke up, mom was at home crying on the couch; She then told us he’d died overnight.
