Uncle Carroll

It seems to really appreciate life, we have to live it, experience it, and then look back on it with gratitude for all that was, because it made us who we are.  I often think about my life, and feel thankful for every person that has been a part of it.  Not all the people that have come into my life, are still a part of it.  Some by my choosing, some just by being a casual acquaintance, some by death, and some by simply not caring enough to know me.  In some way, each one of them have touched me, helped me to grow, made me thankful for those who are still in my life.

There's a man that has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  He came into my life by marrying my Aunt Mary, and he has been an anchor to me through the storms of life. He has cheered me on, chastened me, guided me, laughed with me, cried with, and stood by me. When I was two years old, my mom became very ill, was in a coma, and as would be obvious, was not able to care for my brother and I.  Aunt Mary and Uncle Carroll were newly married, but they took my brother and I into their home.  They opened their hearts, they cared for us as if we were there own.  Not many men would be willing to do that, but Uncle Carroll did.  He has opened his heart, and his home to me many times since, and has been a father to me, when my own chose not to be.

When my mom, brother and I needed a place to live, Uncle Carroll provided that for us.  When the car wouldn't start, he came over to help.  When we were running low on groceries, they often were too, and so along would come Uncle Carroll with a soup bone, and ask mom to make us all soup.  It's always good to share the little, so a lot can be made.

We share a love of photography, so we would often discuss cameras, lens, angles, lighting, subjects.  He was always much better with landscape, and abstract.  He knew the best settings for the best lighting.  I loved, and still do love, to take pictures of people.  While I envied his ability to capture the perfect landscape shot, he would often tell me he wished he could capture people the way I could.

When I am with him, we talk about all kinds of things.  We talk about the bible, what we believe, why we believe it.  We talk about our families, raising children, and loving grandchildren.  We talk about things we did, things we wish we had done, things we wish we hadn't done, and things we might do.  We talk about books we have read, places we have been, and people that we have met along the way.  We discuss politics, and world events.  We talk about a lot of things, and sometimes we just spend the day being quiet.  

Anyone who knows Uncle Carroll, knows and appreciates his wit, his ability to come up with a funny quip, a great story, and make us all laugh.  I often regret not keeping a journal of his many funny quips, and awesome stories.  Some we will never forget, and some we wish we could remember.  His funny jokes, his hilarious speeches, and the all time favorite....the lost patrol.

It is unfortunate that Parkinsons Disease has become an uninvited guest in his life.  It's a cruel and unwelcome guest, but even with that, Uncle Carroll has been strong.  He has not lost his sense of humor, his gratitude for Aunt Mary, and her care for him.  He still tells stories, remembers traveling to foreign lands, thinks of people who have been in his life, and does not whine.  

I have the privilege of spending at least one day a week with him, and I look forward to those days.  He usually has a story to share about his life, about something that happened, some place he traveled, and it's always interesting.  Some days are not good days for him, and so we just get through the day.  I feel honored that I get to repay him, though very small in measure, for all the care he has given me through the years.  He thanks me for helping him, but I feel like I should be thanking him.

The other day I was there with him, and as I walked through the kitchen I noticed a list on the counter.  It was a list of all the things that Aunt Mary does for him throughout the day.  A list of all the things he appreciates that she does.  I read the list and was reminded that we all need to be thankful for each person in our life, and for all that they do, from the little things that don't seem so important, to big things that are obvious.

Uncle Carroll has taught me many things in my life, but the most important thing he has taught me, is the example of living for others, and being thankful for what I have.

I love him very much, and I'm thankful for each opportunity to be with him.

GRIEF

Grief comes to all of us as we live life, and when it comes, it feels like an unwanted, uninvited guest.  We all have to learn how to cope with grief, and each one of us have a different way of coping, none of them right or wrong, just how we cope.

I found this definition of grief, and felt it explained how I have felt since hearing of my friend, Bernice Bassett Trumper's passing.

What is Grief?
Grief is the internal part of loss, how we feel. The internal work of grief is a process, a journey. It does not end on a certain day or date. It is as individual as each of us. Grief is real because loss is real. Each grief has its own imprint, as distinctive and as unique as the person we lost. The pain of loss is so intense, so heartbreaking, because in loving we deeply connect with another human being, and grief is the reflection of the connection that has been lost.

Tomorrow we will all gather to say our goodbyes, and it will not be easy.  A life so young, so much ahead for her, for her family.  I've felt guilty for the amount of grief that I have felt, because I feel, who am I to feel this much pain in losing her, when her husband and daughters loved her to an extent I will never know.  Maybe guilty is not the right word, but I can't think of another word to use.  In all the years I've known Bernice, been friends with her, I didn't know her the way her family did.  Yes, I will miss her.  I will miss our chance meetings here in the community where we both grew up in.  I will miss my Facebook chats with her.  I will miss her quiet, unassuming, gentle way.  I will miss her laugh, I will miss her smile, but I will never miss her like her family will.  I think that is where my feelings of guilt, or whatever the appropriate word may be, come from.

I can say this, my grief is real.  I will go on with life, and I will often think of her, but for her family, every day, every birthday, anniversary, event and holiday without her, will be a fresh reminder of their loss.  So while I feel grief at the loss of a friend, I don't want to forget the magnitude of their loss, a loss they will feel forever.  I hope the reflection of my grief, will be a reflection of the love I felt for their wife, mother, and sister.