Death is never an easy thing to write about. It’s not always an easy thing to face. Yesterday, I lost someone who I’ve known since (before) my days on this earth.
He was my uncle, one scared me when he yelled at my cousins to knock it off, then would turn around and wink to let you know it was OK. It took me some time to realize that his beard wasn’t as threatening to me as his older sons (who, let’s be honest, were pretty threatening there for a while.)
I had seen my Uncle Tom recently in Connecticut, when I was home for the Family Picnic and Nikki’s bridal shower. It was great to hear about him talk about his life, his kids, how happy he was to just be. I remember thinking when he got out of the hospital, I was going to send him my copy of Travels with Charley, because he talked about seeing the US, and I figured he could use some “research.” This quotation speaks to why Travels with Charley felt like the right text to send.
I discovered long ago that what I found was closely intermeshed with how I felt at the moment. External reality has a way of being not so external after all. This monster of a land, this mightiest of nations, this spawn of the future, turns out to be the macrocosm of microcosm me. If an Englishman or a Frenchman or an Italian should travel my route, see what I saw, hear what I heard, their stored pictures would be not only different from mine but equally different from one another.
Everyone has a life journey, and everyone’s is different, even if together. For me, the role Uncle Tom played in my life was uncle, who loved his nieces and nephews fiercely, and always told us he was proud, thankful, and joyed that we turned out the way we did.
I’ve seen him play the role of father, of which he was amazing, and of grandfather, which was even more astonishing. To my mom and dad, I’ve seen him be a caring brother, law or no law, and to my Aunt Pat, a loving, adoring husband. I think of my grandmother, and know she is sad to have lost one of her great sons.
Uncle Tom played a role in so many lives, and the web he wove is what keeps us all close, able to share in this tragedy in a way that someday, we’ll be able to comprehend. But now, he’s with Aunt Pat, and Grandpa, and a whole gang of people who will be waiting when we all arrive to eat and play some cards.
I am so blessed to have had such a great uncle in my life. So blessed for all the people who I will see at the end of the week to rally around and squeeze love from. So lucky to be part of the giant clan I call my family.
My heart is on the east coast this week, as it wraps around my cousins, and their families. My love is endlessly reaching towards the sun, and I’ll be there in spirit until I arrive on Thursday. I love you, Uncle Tom.
