On this day 7 years ago I lost my uncles, both of them, on a motorcycle wreck because of some faulty breaks. It was awful for everyone. My uncle Branden was like my dad, my mom worked all the time and couldn't spend much time with me so my uncle included me in everything he did with his kids, he took me to the movies with them, the water park, picked me up from school, fed me when I got off the bus at his house, etc. and my uncle David, who was mentally challenged and on the level of a 7year old, would always play with us kids (ranging from 4-18) and we was always getting into trouble for breaking something because we were kids. I always felt at home there. No matter how crazy my life was I always felt loved and wanted. Then they died. No warning nothing. They were both only 36. David was adopted from foster care when he was 12. He was with our family for over 20 years. He was one of us. Yes he may of been different but he was family.  The grief is different this year, it's harder.  I'm realizing my son,who could come any day, will never get to meet his uncles and do all the great stuff I got to, and he'll never have them to teach him how to be a good guy, he'll never get to taste the weird burritos my uncle branden made because he sucked at cooking unless it was deep fried lol. He's gonna miss out on so much because of one night 7 years ago.  Sorry it's so long. I just needed to let it out and let myself cry.