Sad Day

Three hours ago my Uncle Joe died. My Mother had left a message saying to phone her right away (which is never a good sign), and when I returned her call she told me that he had died. Her earlier message was to tell me that he was doing poorly while recovering in hospital from an operation yesterday. This was shocking because I had no idea he was scheduled for an operation. Sometimes my Mother forgets to tell me stuff.

Uncle Joe was a big part of my childhood. He and my late Aunt Mary lived in the village where I grew up and they always made a fuss over me. Their children were seven to ten years older than me (they were teenagers when I was in elementary school) and so I looked up to them. As a child I would sometimes walk to their home for a visit without telling my parents. I loved how they always made me feel special.

When my uncle and aunt moved to the city -- after their teenage daughter's death from cancer -- I took it personally as only a nine-year-old girl would. I was hurt that they moved away from me and slowly drifted out of my immediate life. As an adult I finally realized that they must have suffered a great deal of pain and sadness watching their daughter slowly suffer and die. They most likely wanted to escape the sad memories and start over in a new place.

Living in Texas and California the past five years meant that I didn't always see my uncle and his second wife that much. In fact, I cannot recall the exact date I last saw him, but I do remember the first thing he said to me as he walked into my parents' home: "How's my favourite niece?" and then he gave me a big hug. I feel awful that I did not see him in the time since we moved back to Canada.

Uncle Joe was a life-long Conservative supporter, and I can only assume he was happy on Monday to see our cousin re-elected as a Member of Parliament and the Conservatives getting a majority government. I imagine him smiling down from heaven with my aunt and cousin by his side.