Loss in the Family ~ the Man born on the July 4th

"I alone am left on earth!

To whom nor relative not blood remains,

No! not a kindred drop that runs in human veins."

~ Campbell

 Her brother passed away last week.  He was 81 and she turned 84 today.  He called his older sister (my Mom) just before he died to tell her he loved her.  It took her by surprise.  She answered "Brother, I'm suppose to call you.  I always say I love you first.  We've had this conversation every day for almost 7 decades. He laughed and said 'yes I know, but this once I wanted to tell you first'.  She was so deeply touched she could only mumble 'thanks' and 'good bye'.   He then rolled his wheel chair into his room, asked for assistance to get into bed and there, not five minutes later~ he took is last breath.  His heart stopped and he passed on into the night

She and I sit on the patio in her desert home and review that simply conversation many times a day.  Sometimes she can not quite grasp her loss and when she does, her heart shatters again.  Her memory recalls him as a boy.  She and he were the middle children in a family of four kids ~ they have been as 'thick as thieves' since childhood.  She taught him to speak and walk...no doubt it is why she went on to be a talented instructor of English grammar.  She recalls, that although they could have fierce arguments, it always ended in "I love you".  She is and he was the most formidable and stubborn human beings I've ever met. Now there is one.  She seems quite lost without her sibling.  Her memory is failing her and locks her in her grief anew...many times a day.  She asks me to tell her one more time what has happened. Each time I brace for that shutter of sorrow that engulfs her.  Slowly, oh so slowly she begins to comprehend that he is no more.

Oh, God! it is a fearful thing

To see the human soul take wing

In any shape, in any mood!"

~Byron

Good bye Uncle.  You are mourned here.  You have joined  your Parents, your older Sister, your nephew...my Brother, and your friend, my Dad.  We few who remain shed tears and some soft laughter remembering yesterdays.  But most important of all, your sister whispers "I love you" quietly into the night.

Down One

"Life is an adventure in forgiveness"
Norman Cousins My uncle died yesterday. He was a man in his 80's. He fell and hurt himself...his head. The fall was likely the result of a second, and subsequently fatal, stroke. I wasn't with him. I have not seen him in decades. He was in Utah with his wife. There will not be a funeral. He will receive the prayers of his immediate family at the graveside. And a long family tale will come to closure.

When I was very young he was one of the constant and kind males in my life. He was a hard working man. He and his son raised sheep. He was also fond of horses and I hear he bought and sold a number of them. Later in his life he made excellent business decision with real estate and I've also heard he sealed huge business deals on a handshake. He was a Mormon and I know nothing about his religion or his side of the family.

This group of people we call "our family" is so loosely connected that I can't tell you if my Uncle had sisters or brothers. I don't know who else called him "Uncle" outside his wife's side of the family. I don't know when his parents died or how or why they died.

What do I know? That he was kind to me when I was a child. I also know that a number of years ago he had an affair. And this is where it gets a bit complicated. His sister-in-law, my mother, was married to a man from Sandy. The man from Sandy was my father. He was at least half Mexican. That was the source of enormous shame to my mother - that subject is a story for another time. Anyway, my father died suddenly of a massive heart attack in 1965. My parents were divorced when I was five and when he died I was in high school. My Mother was in her 3rd marriage (three of six) . My father had remarried a woman who was Greek. His wife had been married before and had two children. Then they had one together, a boy. After Dad died one thing led to another (I don't know the any of the details) and my uncle and my father's second wife had an affair. My Aunt eventually found out about it and the affair came to a halt. She never forgave him his infidelity. But she did not leave. When he had the first stroke she was there and managed his care until the very end.

Is she saddened by this passing. I don't know but if she behaves anything like a normal person after caring for a sick person for along time, she is probably just relieved. She fulfilled her duty. She and I have never discussed her husband's cheating. I know that the "other person" was a kind woman. But I have been cheated on too. I know that in that circumstances, the "other" person and the spouse who strays, no matter how kind, loses some if not all, moral currency.

So, I run my hand over this piece of tattered fabric - this piece of memory. My mind's hand strokes the frayed threads of a long-ago childhood and adolescence. My mind's ear remembers him coming in at night after a day of assuring that his farm was well run with his sheep herding dog "Killer" and saying a simple "Why Hello". I did not budge. The dog "Killer" had that name for a reason! The two, the man and his huge dog, ambled off to do man things. I was in my 30s and visiting after not seeing my Aunt in some 10 or so years. We spent the evening, my Aunt and I, just chatting. I had no idea that moment was the last I would see him or hear his voice. Time is a rascal. It has a way of spinning us around so fast that we don't know we're spinning. Our silly imitation of the planets around the sun. And the sun image...our own lives.

In a few weeks, one of my adult children and I will journey to his burial site and leave some flowers. I'm sorry he cheated. But I am not sorry that he was my Uncle.

R.I.P