It started on a warm, sunny day. Daddy called me to break my heart and say, I don’t know how to tell you but he’s gone. ‘Who,’ I exclaimed.’ he began to cry tears streaming down his face. ‘Uncle Scott, he said.’ My heart began to break not knowing how to respond teary eyed and confused I didn’t say anything there was nothing much to do. I then hung up the phone gathering all of my thoughts of what I had just heard, my mind repeating just that one word. My Uncle Scott dead, no it couldn’t be but I knew I had to accept what god had wanted his life to be. I then wiped my eyes but nothing much helped tears were flowing like a swiftly flowing river in beautiful prairie. But my feeling were nothing compared to a swiftly flowing river in a beautiful prairie, more like a deserted town with nothing there. I took out a pen and a piece of paper, and wrote every word that came to mind mostly the ones to remind me of Scott Lynn Taylor. It turned into a beautiful poem that my sister Davette read at his funeral, then I folded it and put it into his pocket left one to be exact. I know I didn’t spend much time with him and I didn’t even know him that well. But I called him Uncle Scott and I loved him alot and nobody can tell me that I didn’t love him and he didn’t love me because on that day March 19, 2003 all my thoughts were gathered and put away into history.