I had to go out for a greeting card for my Uncle this weekend. Somehow, I’d overlooked getting him a card. Receiving his in the mail was an ‘oh, shit,’ moment.
We have some on hand but none work for him. My father is the oldest. This uncle is one of Dad’s younger brothers, the older of the two younger brothers. There are also two sisters, all still alive and in their seventies and eighties. Uncle P was in the Air Force at the same time as I was, stationed in the San Antonio area when I went through basic training there. I was eighteen. He and his family treated me to Thanksgiving (Detroit and Dallas played) and took me out to do things when I earned free time and passes. Later, now married, I was stationed in the area on permanent assignment. Uncle P and his family again gave us a place to go, a family to connect with thousands of miles from home.
He’s endured the usual life movements. Children grew and married. Grandchildren were born. He had three children, two daughters and a son, ranging in age from one to six years younger than me.
Uncle P’s wife died of breast cancer four years ago. His youngest daughter died in 2020. His son died in 2021. Cancer for both. One daughter remains, but she’s a gem.
So, finding the right card for him was challenging. The cards were picked over, of course. Several stores were visited. Eventually the right card was found to help tell this man how much he’s meant to me and my wife, how sorry we are for his losses, how we hope that 2022 is a brighter year for him.
It’s a lot for a card to carry.