I'll see you in Australia
At 57 years of age, my uncle will not see his grandson grow into a fine young man. He will not live see his second grandson born in the months ahead either.Thinking of my dear uncle, who was diagnosed with intestinal cancer six months ago, it has been the sad and inevitable lead up to this weekend. Arriving at his home this weekend was my only chance to say goodbye.
Arriving that early afternoon, I was not shown to him immediately. He had been sleeping through the day. So talking catch-up with the family and hearing about my cousin's life in Perth with hubby and son was the minor detour from what I had travelled up here to do.
Sitting by my uncle's bed later that evening, we hardly talked. There was nothing to say. I had to look away for an instant when I first laid eyes on his sunken form. My mother had been updating me on his condition and with such a debilitating disease, why was I shocked at all? Reading him the news from my printcopy of The Economist and watching his eyes blink at every pause, demonstrated that his mind was sharp even when his body was shutting down.
My uncle did not talk down me when I was growing up. He did not treat me like a child. He tempered this angsty boy who was only too happy to grow up immediately. He imparted patience and temperance when all I wanted to do was tear up and challenge everything. Of all my uncles, he was my favorite and having to behold a hollow shell of a man only made me sad. I wondered why he didn't stop smoking. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he didn't want to. The choices we make in our lives impact those around us. Sitting there holding his hands quietly, all that second-guessing was just wishful thinking.
My uncle was happy to see me. It pleased him to see me smiling, to sit with him quietly for hours. He didn't want tears and I determined the last that he should remember is that his nephew loved him.
"I'll see you in Australia," he said. "Yes, we'll have a great time there," I replied.
posted by Teutoburg @ 12:55 PM
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