A few weeks ago, my beloved Uncle Dave died. He was told he had six months to live and in true Uncle Dave form, he lived for nine months. Never one to follow the rules, he enjoyed every minute of his life and particularly those last few months. My brother and I haven’t even been able to talk to each other on the phone since our uncle died because we both know that we will cry too hard to even speak. We were so incredibly lucky to have this man as our uncle and as part of our lives.

It seems rare these days to find a role model who is kind, funny, generous, completely authentic and in the moment. My Uncle Dave was exactly that person. My brother and I have vivid childhood memories of our uncles (my father’s brothers) coming to hang out with us in our house in the south suburbs of Chicago. We lived for those days in which our uncles would hang out all day, playing games with us, watching football, and just making life interesting and so much fun.

My Uncle Dave was outlandishly funny. He once read an article that suggested dogs can eat a piece of white bread in seconds and humans could not. So of course, Uncle Dave had to test this theory. He raced our dog, Tippy, in a white bread eating contest. I can’t remember ever laughing as hard as we did that day. Tippy finished her bread in seconds. My uncle took forever and his comments and facial expressions were priceless. We still talk about that incident to this day.

He once brought a friend to our house when I was a teenager. As was often the case in my teen-aged years, I was grounded. My uncle was quite concerned about this seemingly unfair punishment of his niece, so he requested a trial to see if my punishment was a fair one. His friend played the judge and my uncle was my lawyer. As you might guess, I was found not guilty and released from that week’s grounding. It was glorious to have him on my side and to watch how adeptly he handled our family tension and turned it into a funny memory.

After sharing some stories about my uncle in this post, I’ve realized that writing about him is healing for me. Although I’m grieving the loss of this wonderful man, sharing stories about him and thinking of all of the joy he brought to my life helps ease some of that grief. I’m giving myself the space to both miss him and to celebrate his incredibly wonderful life. His memory is truly a blessing to all who knew him.

Love,

Lisa Kaplin Psy. D. PCC