Last Christmas was one of the better ones I have had in a while. I got to see both of my grandmothers who are both very old at this point and just happy to get visitors. I also did my best to get what I thought were excellent gifts for my family. I bought my uncle Larry a shovel so it would take up as much of the area under the Christmas tree. I got my uncle Ron, my godfather what can only be described as a shoebox full of Jell-o. For once, I was sad to go, because I was having a very good time with my family, who is typically a little too much for me, if only because there are so many of them.
This afternoon while I was at work, I got a phone call from my mom. She said she had bad news. I have been preparing for bad news for a while, since as I said both of my grandmothers are very old. "Your Uncle Ron died," Mom said. At first, the news didn't seem real. Ron was healthy, I thought. Was it an accident? What happened?
Apparently it was a heart attack. He was in his back yard, sitting on a chair with a glass of wine, a good way to go out. Ron, as I said, was my Godfather, and was one of my most well respected relatives outside of my immediate family. He was one of the kindest, most well intentioned men in the world. Much of what makes me who I am but isn't necessarily reflected on this site was influenced by my uncle Ron, from my appreciation for the nature right outside the window, to my faith to my enjoyment of the small quirks in every day life. And yet now I can't stop wondering what my aunt is going to do with all that Jell-o
Ron will be missed by those who knew and loved him, not the least of whom is me. Rest in peace, Uncle Ron