Gerry skipped nap so an early bedtime was on the horizon, and I thought, "Great! I'll have time to write!" But sometimes life has other plans. Last night my Great-Uncle Bob passed away. And with that news my desire to write evaporated. I felt the tiredness of another full day and a fullness in my heart. The first time I heard the news Marisol was still awake and it passed through my head quickly, like a bird swooping overhead in the sky, "oh!" I said. I think it was a short-lived stage of shock. But after both kids were asleep I connected with my family through the great connector (the internet) and I felt sad.
Suddenly the words of the day were no longer so important. I remembered one of the nicest men I have ever known. I remembered his huge smile and genuine, strong hugs. I thought of Aunt Helen (his wife, and my grandfather's sister) and his kids and grandkids. There is nothing like death to put everything else in perspective.
So instead of writing I sat close to Mike on the couch while he watched a show. Then slowly the tears started. At first I hid them (a vestigial reaction from my childhood). But before retiring I asked for a hug because, "I'm sad," and the tears flowed freely. I'm letting them flow again freely this morning, as I will have to do my mourning far from my family.
I was not that close with Uncle Bob but he really was one of the nicest, happiest... just most sunniest people I have ever known. From what I can gather his death was relatively quick and unexpected. It seems to make the shock harder and pain sharper. I am thinking of all his closest loved ones today. Death is the elephant in Life's bedroom. It touches us all and unites us and puts everything back into it's proper place.
This is my goodbye to Uncle Bob. He will be remembered fondly by all that knew him and loved always.