It’s Summer 2012 and my family is hosting the annual Meat Fest. The sun is shining brightly and the yard is filled with tents, tables, and people laughing. My dad and his friends would be roasting a pig, making brisket, and ribs. The weekend was always as exhilarating as a kid's first roller coaster. Family on my moms side would come from Minnesota and Arizona and family on my dads side would come from Illinois for two days of fun. 

One person that would never miss it was my uncle Pete. He had the greatest attitude, sense of humor, and knew how to make others laugh. At Meat fest, I remember playing the guitar with my Ben Ten watch on. I wanted to be just like my dad and his friends. They would laugh hysterically as I tried my best to play.

Unfortunately, Pete passed away in 2015. He was up north doing what he loved most—; spending time with his brothers and having a good time. They were riding snowmobiles until all of a sudden Pete stopped out of nowhere. My other uncles turned around in confusion as they saw Pete sitting, emotionlessly. Pete suffered from a heart attack, weeks after a doctors appointment where they said his heart conditions were perfectly fine. Pete’s legacy lived on as my dad, his brothers, and friends constantly bring up stories of their crazy times. 

I have one picture of me and my uncle. Meat fest 2012, playing the guitar. If my house was burning down and I could only choose one thing to take with me, it would be the memory I have with my godfather.