I woke up early this morning thinking about my uncle. Uncle David died very unexpectedly last Christmas. It’s been so hard on my family, missing their dad, husband, brother and uncle. What a day to lose someone.
I’ve been thinking about what is probably my favorite memory of him: When my marriage fell apart I kept it to myself for several months. We were still living together in the same house and I could keep up appearances pretty well. I think I was disillusioned enough to think there was something I could do to fix it. It was not my proudest season of life.
When I decided to tell my family about what was going on, I went over to my aunt and uncle’s house to talk with them. I remember sitting in their living room on the couch, anxious to drop the news that my marriage had fallen apart, that I had been betrayed. Every time I told someone, it made it more real.
Upon hearing the news, my uncle put his head in his hand and sobbed huge, heaving sobs, so sad for me and the kids. And when he was able to speak again, he, along with my aunt, prayed earnestly for my little family. I knew they would be there (and they were) for anything I needed in that heartbreaking season.
This is the kind of man that he was. One who loved us all so deeply. He was there for nearly every significant moment in my life and many, many insignificant ones too.
He taught me to love my people deeply and that showing up and being present counts for everything. I know that we’re all missing him so much right now. But more than anything, I am so, incredibly thankful for the mark he made on my life and the legacy he left in the people he loved.
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