The Last Dinner Together

 

What happens when you lose one of the few people in your life who’s always been there?  One would think when someone passes away at the age of 92 it would not be a shock.  Most folks don’t even make it to 92.

But it was a shock.   When my phone rang early Saturday morning I heard my aunt’s familiar voice.   In her grace and clarity she informed me that, surprisingly and quickly,  Uncle Joe had passed away that morning.

Uncle Joe is the baby on the left, and he was my dad’s brother.  Being three years younger than Dad, he looked like Dad, he talked like Dad and he acted a lot like Dad.  He was even a surgeon like Dad.  I’ll miss that last touch of Dad I have had here.

The last time I saw Uncle Joe was when I flew to Portland to have him sign my Birthday Book.  If it hadn’t been for that, I’m not sure when I would have gone again.  You just think someone who has always been there… will always be there.

I remember the evening well.  Although I didn’t know it at the time, it was to be my last dinner with him.  When dinner was over, he signed his name.   Asking  him to write Uncle Joe under his signature, he did, adding the “with love” in his doctor’s shorthand.  It’s a warm memory I wouldn’t have without the Birthday Book.   Because it was so meaningful for me to have him in my book, I took the time and effort to travel to Portland.  But I got something much more meaningful in return. I will always miss him but I will enjoy remembering him and the last dinner we had together.

 

 

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