In the last two weeks of this past August a few milestones occurred in my life. I celebrated 21 years of marriage to my wonderful wife (who I don't deserve, by the way). Our daughter started second grade which is exhausting, according to her, due to too much fun and after years of searching we finally found a home to rent that will accommodate our family needs as well as our businesses, respectively. Yes, my fellow Observers, the latter half of August was indeed filled with activity and fulfillment when it came to our wants and celebrations, but it also came with loss as all of the aforementioned was overshadowed by the passing of my favorite uncle.
Although we haven't been as close these past 20 some odd years as much as we were when I was a kid, my Uncle Bill was and will always remain ever present in my life. He was the cool uncle. He loved a good joke and to make people laugh. My father fell victim to laughing fits that made his sides hurt due to his contagious humor on many occasions. He loved a good prank as well. Just ask any of my cousins or his grandchildren. He was the guy that scared the neighborhood kids on Halloween and got more of a kick out of doing so than all of the rest of the family put together. He enjoyed a good smoke, a good drink, good family and good friends. Some of my fondest memories are rooted in my Uncle Bill's backyard. Vividly etched in my minds eye along with my aunt and my three cousins. I learned how to swim in their pool. I mastered riding a bike around their neighborhood as well as obtaining enough trick or treat candy from the numerous houses in their subdivision to put me into a sugar coma well past my 40th birthday if consumed in one sitting.... and I tried, I'll have you know. On the same subject, my cousins were more than willing to show me how to handle a particular house, with a borrowed bar of Ivory or a well placed emission from a Barbasol can, along the route that had unfortunately decided not to hand over the Babe Ruths that year. I patronized my first ice cream truck from the curb of Uncle Bill's lawn and by his garage he gave me my first sip of beer. He was a second father to me without the rigid hand of discipline. He was a kid trapped in an adult body standing in defiance of growing up and acting his age. He had more toys than I did and played with them just as much. He collected more bubble gum cards than all the kids in the family and there was always a car in the yard or a pinball machine in the garage that he was restoring. Some he got working and some he didn't, but he never gave up on what he wanted to achieve as he shrugged off discouragement as a child does. If there are any universal constants in this existence, one of them has to be that everyone in some way, shape or form has an Uncle Bill. I feel sorry for those who don't.
As I reflected back on my month, I couldn't help but realize the balance that life keeps as I pondered what has recently happened in mine. That with all my family had acquired, I couldn't help but take measure of what we had lost. As my wife and I celebrated 21 years, my aunt was saying a final goodbye to her husband after just under 60. As our daughter waits for her father to come home from work, three daughters will see theirs no more. As we get ready to move to a new home, my aunt is considering whether or not she will stay in hers. Contemplating that balance made all to real to me the fact that I have reached a pinnacle in my life in which I'm going to start losing as much as I gain that eventually will lead to more loss than acquisition.
So, how do we cope when the scales of life tip out of our favor? How do we find the will to keep getting out of bed when the odds are always against us? I suppose, my loyal reader, that's where faith comes in. Even though I don't put stock in any religion, I will never deny the power of faith as it is different for all. It may have similarities from one person to another, but it also differs as it reflects individuality. Some believe in pearly gated harps played by angels led into a blissful afterlife by St. Peter. Some put their faith into the ideal that we ascend to a higher plane of existence. Some maintain that we return in a different physical form in order to amass knowledge from all incarnations and some choose not to believe at all. That our existence, knowledge and awareness falls prey to oblivion. I personally choose to believe that no one ever truly leaves us if they are remembered. They live on in our thoughts through our memories of them. Their hearts still beat in their family and their blood flows in the veins of their children. I see my father in my son as he not only carries my father's name but his legacy that was passed to me and from me to my son. That's my faith. That's my belief. That's how I face my mortality.
The complexity of faith is defined by it's simplicity. What the individual can accept is how the parameters of their faith are set. That's what makes it work. If faith was some generic set of board game rules that all had to follow, inflexible and uncompromising in design, it would surely fail due to the inadequacies of conformity. It's the individual's unique perception of faith that gives us peace and comfort within it's practice. It allows us to grieve for our loss while sharing that grief with others. As I prepare to say goodbye to my uncle later this week, I will rely on my faith and my family to help me through my loss. As the days till then progress, I will get out of bed...I will cope.... until, eventually, in the company of my family I will see my uncle again as they see my father in me.
My mother, my Uncle Bill and my father
