Just a quick post tonight to say that my Uncle John passed away last night.
He was the kindest man, always knew what to say, had a big heart and an even bigger smile and I am gutted that he is gone.
I am even sadder that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
I like to think that when you die, you go to a place where you can see and hear your loved ones, know their thoughts and understand them from a place of compassion and understanding no mere mortal could ever possess.
Part of me hopes that I’ll be able to do that when it’s my time to go because I hate goodbyes and wouldn’t want to leave the people I love the most. And spying on them would be fun.
Mostly I hope that my Uncle John – and everyone else I’ve lost – knows that despite not being the best niece (or daughter, or granddaughter) I loved them, and that I panic and run away from the pain of losing people so I don’t show up when I should.
Uncle John, I wish we could have had more family time together. But thank you for always making me feel like I was family. Thank you for accepting me for me. Thank you for the laughs – especially at Christmas – and for teaching me the value of a good pair of turkey pants.
I’m going to miss you. I already do. Say hi to Dad for me.