Dear Child,
It’s never easy to say goodbye.
When I was a child, there were many times I accompanied Mom and Dad to wakes and funerals for the oldest members of our family. It was common to hear such expressions as “they lived a good, long life” and “it was their time”. I understood, even at a young age, that when people get older, they start to slow down, and eventually they pass away.
I think what made Uncle Gerald’s passing so hard was that, even at the age of 79, he didn’t seem to be slowing down yet. So, in my mind, he had many years left to live.
And unexpected deaths are always the hardest for a heart to handle.
Uncle Gerald was a constant in our lives. From the time you were little, we could expect to see him first thing in the morning on every holiday and birthday and he always came bearing gifts for everyone. I knew the phone would ring during hunting season as he checked in to see if Colton had shot a deer yet and he always laughed with pride at the stories I’d share.
Ever since I was a little girl, Uncle Gerald and I had shared a special bond. Mostly, I think, because we were born on the same day. And not just any day – but Groundhog Day. A day that is quite insignificant to most people but special to us and I can’t tell you how many birthday cards I got from him that were addressed to “Groundhog Girl” – everything written in capital letters.
He would always arrive early on our shared day, and we would exchange cards and gifts, often with lottery tickets included, though neither of us ever won anything.
Uncle Gerald was my main connection to the rest of the family on Dad’s side. Grandma Barber had 10 children, so I was blessed with a lot of cousins. Twenty-six, in fact. And Uncle Gerald was the best at keeping in touch with everyone and then delivering their news to the rest of us. Despite not having seen many of my cousins in twenty years or more, I knew their children’s names and ages and what they were up to – who had graduated, who got a new dog, who loved to hunt and even who had “put on the beef”. He didn’t just keep track of ages – he could tell me each person’s birthday as well.
There was never one ounce of judgement or negativity in the updates – it was simply the news on what everyone else was doing and it made me feel connected still, even though distance and busy lives kept most of us apart.
I’d also get updates on how trapping had been lately, where the deer were feeding, and how his garden was coming along. I didn’t realize until now how much our chats fulfilled me – they brought back so many happy memories from my childhood and bridged that gap between who I was and who I am now, making sure that little girl was still a big part inside of me.
It wasn’t very long ago that he was here, helping Grandpa Barber take down two huge cedar trees near our driveway. I watched them rope the trees and drop them and then Uncle Gerald came back another day to cut up the logs and haul away the wood. Hard work, but that was what he liked.
When he suddenly wasn’t feeling well and was admitted to the hospital, I was grateful they transferred him to the Kingston General Hospital. Now you could stop in to see him before and after your shifts and provide me with detailed updates on how he was doing. Grandpa was great at sending me the updates he got from Uncle Delbert, but I wanted your opinion on his condition even more. I was so glad he got to see you in his last days.
It’s difficult to think that I won’t see his truck pulling into the driveway early on Christmas Eve morning or that I’ll be celebrating my birthday without him next year.
The sound of his voice is still clear in my head, and I hope it stays there for a long time.
Grieving is the hardest thing we do in this life. But it serves as an excellent reminder to be grateful each day for the time we spend with family and friends because sharing our love with others is the greatest gift God gives us.
Love Mom
xoxo
