My uncle died a week ago, and I was there when he passed. In those moments you think it would be something if you were asked to attend you would decline. Somehow I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else. He was someone growing up that gave me a nickname "Laura Penny" and always made me welcome in his home. He came from a generation of men that started at one job and retired from that same job. He could rebuild an engine blind-folded. He was the kind of Grandpa that everytime he has the tractor out there was a kid on his lap. He never took a vacation without bringing the kids.
My cousin, his daughter is three weeks younger than myself. We grew up like sisters. Our mothers would buy us matching outfits and we took dance class together. We were like sisters in that we had a love, hate relationship. We have always been there for each other and did nearly everything together growing up but sometimes we had time apart. It doesn't seem to matter the time apart, we have historty together and we are family. We can pick up where we left off and re-connect. I guess that is what family is. It is a very precious thing.
It's been strangely difficult to see people lose parents that are my age. I think of my parents as always being there. It has brought a truth to me that I am really growing up. I probably should have figured that out sooner than 35. It is the little things like going to reunions and now we serve the food and its my kids playing with the little kids. It seems it wasn't too long ago that I was one giving the piggy-back rides sigh.
This blog is probably all over the board but the passing of my uncle has impacted me in alot of ways on many levels. I thought I would share. It is better for me out than in.