Say Uncle

Dear Uncle David,
 
I really wish I could have seen you like we planned this summer.  I felt really bad about not going and now that you are gone, I know that I will forever feel guilty for not being there when I knew I could have.
 
I am glad you are peace now and that you were surrounded by family that loves you.  I hope that in those last moments you felt the love that was there.  I wish I could have been there as one of those people, sitting at your bedside letting you know we care and you aren’t alone.  It’s us that are now alone without you in our lives.
 

You weren’t the perfect uncle, you weren’t the doting uncle that calls and checks on us.  You didn’t know how our days were going at the drop of a hat and probably couldn’t guess our favorite things.  But, you are our uncle that we loved.
 
I love that you were a little nuts with anger issues at the dumbest of things, I love that you would write me traditional letters and it always made me smile to see your little notes in my mailbox and most of the time it would make me laugh out loud at the silliness of your small short notes, so abrupt and to the point. It didn’t offend me because it was part of how you… were.  It made me laugh that even though you were highly misunderstood in a world of being perfect, you were still my uncle that showed he cared by the simplicity of a few words.
 
When we started writing back and forth many years ago, I thought it was weird and crazy because we had never really had much of a relationship.  It made my sister and I laugh when you started asking for pictures of us and our families.  We joked about how you must look like Robin Williams in that movie Photo Booth since we aren’t able to visit as often as we wanted to.  I quickly realized how the pictures kept us all connected, how we were there with you even though we were so far away.  They say that “a picture is worth a thousand words” and with that I felt like we didn’t have to say anything, we were all connected through our photographs.
 
By the way, I know I never got you that A’s hat that you wanted but had every intention of bringing you a Dodger hat just to be funny.  I remember going to the A’s game with you, how different it all must have seemed for you, being from a very small town in Minnesota, then walking into an A’s game in a big city like Oakland.  Then a few years later we ended up at a Twins game and I can remember that, too.  Afterwards we all went out to eat and you accidentally spilled something and you were soooo pissed.  We all laughed because you were so mad at something so trivial and you just stayed mad throughout dinner.  I laugh at it because I do that, I can get so mad about something that isn’t worth it, but I have learned and try to always remember to laugh at myself when I do something stupid… because we are all just human and we make mistakes and who better to get the laughter rolling than the person that just f’ed up.
 
Today, I saw an article title “David finally goes home” and I thought it to be… something, maybe a revelation, a sign… something.  They were of course talking about the Statue of David returning to Italy.  Odd timing, don’t you think?
 
I know that I won’t get over the fact that I didn’t get to see you this summer when you were well.  I won’t get over the fact that I didn’t come see you when you started getting sick.  I thought we would see you next year, like everyone said that it was no big deal.  Once you got sick it became a big deal but again they said it was only an infection in your foot, you would be released soon, but you never left did you.  I kept wishing you better but I guess I should have been praying you better.  I think everyone else was, so hopefully you are at peace now, no longer in the pain that you must have been in your final days that came suddenly and went entirely too fast.
 
I will miss you, your absence will hurt but your memory will make us laugh and sometimes cry.
 
Goodbye, Uncle. I love you always and forever!

2 comments:

  1. Very touching and very well written. Thanks for the insights and thoughtfulness. We all unfortunately have had or will have these moments and I think looking back and remembering what you wrote will make us all realize how precious life is.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you. I think it will help in the long run... right now it's just sad. Today, I went to delete messages from my phone and came across one from him and it was like it happened all over, again.

      Delete

I appreciate your comments and look forward to reading what you write!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...