“Dinner!” my mom shouted, my brother, sister, and myself rushed to the table we were all starving. We sat down and started to eat, dinner was passing as normal. The usual questions were being asked,” how was school, did you finish all your homewo-”, she was interrupted by the familiar sound of the garage opening up and we knew what that sound ment. We all rushed to the door to the garage, all filled up with excited energy. Then the door opened and here came in my Uncle, “UNCLE!” we all shouted with joy. “MICHAEL, JOHN, CARISSA! HOW ARE YOU!” he said with a smile from ear to ear. “We’re doing good, can we play?” He just came home from a 12 hour work shift and hadn’t even had dinner and yet his response was “OF COURSE! I WOULD LOVE TO PLAY!” 

This is the kind of man my Uncle is, he’s always putting his family before himself. It doesn’t matter if he has been working all day and he’s tired, if we need help or need to get something done he’s always right there willing to do it. Since I was young he has provided for me and made sure that I had a place to stay, had food to eat, went to the best school, and did my homework (even if I didn’t want to). 

He was the person who I learned so much from. He taught me how to do construction work which landed me my first job, he taught me how to drive, and how to take care of the house like fixing a cabinet or changing the air filter.

But what is he to me? To most people they would say he’s just a good uncle, nothing more. But to me he’s my real father. He’s the one that provided for me, made sure I was okay when I would get hurt or sick, and taught me things in life. But in the end what it all really comes down to is that he loves me.