I just found out that the “baby” amongst my dad’s siblings, Uncle Jerry, died yesterday.
He had been suffering from cancer with which he had been diagnosed fairly recently.
He was 69.
Growing up involved always visiting cousins, playing with them and knowing my aunts and uncles (my dad’s siblings and himself number 5 and my mom is an only child). Uncle Jerry and his family lived the furthes away – in Virginia – for most of our growing up but we always visited a lot and all the cousins were close as children.
This numbers two deaths in my family this year – my maternal grandmother in February and now my uncle.
These events cause me to examine my own existence and mortality in general and just how precious life is.
I wish I could be with my dad now, but this is all 2,000 miles away and the logistics of having to get there and back are too difficult. I will be there in less than 2 weeks anyway so I’ll be able to be a support at that time.
Since I’m putting together photos for my family for the holidays, I happen to have some of my dad, aunts and uncles. Uncle Jerry is the man in the photos with glasses.