I have two memories of you. One is found in a picture (and frankly speaking that doesn't quite count as a memory). The other... Well, it goes something like this. You picked us up from school one day and before we got home you passed by the Shell Petrol Station Shop and asked us to pick anything we wanted, but it had to be one item. I was so overwhelmed with all the "goodies" I could not make a choice. Eventually, I picked a packet of Digestive Biscuits which I never got to eat because I forgot them in your car. I suppose the kids had a field day eating them. I must not have been more than 8 years old - but that is the memory I have carried all these years.
I haven't seen you in forever - slightly over a decade. Soon it will be two decades and then three decades and yet even in your absence you are thought of more and more with each passing day. I often wonder how differently life would have played out if you stuck around. I wonder...
But don't get me wrong, I am not filled with sadness about not seeing you in person; not any more. You have been popping up randomly in my dreams since the beginning of this year. And though some of your appearances have been technical appearances, I am always happy to see you.
Seeing you grips me with fear (and makes me think I am crazy) and excitement in equal measure. The set-up is always the same. In the living room, by the main door. You play peek-a-boo with me and then disappear. But last nights dream was different. You stayed for a chat. You stayed long enough for me to tell my sister "Look, there he is" and her excitement was unbelievable. You stayed long enough for someone else other than I to see you. It was so cool. You were surprised that she is married, that I have finished school and I am now chasing paper and that I have become so tall. *Ahem* That is what happens when people grow up mister, keep up. :-)
You looked different. You were awfully short, nothing like I remember. Heck, you were shorter than my sister and she is the shortest of us all. On the flip-side though, you sounded just like Patrick, had James sense of humor and something about your smile reminded me of Esther.
I was ecstatic that we got to talk this time round, that you know how our lives are. I have very few memories of you alive but I suppose I am creating some with you in my dreams. You are dearly missed... But seeing you, albeit for a spilt second as is sometimes the case, makes me believe in heaven, that you are in heaven and God sent you to pay us a visit, in your living room.
You are missed.
Rest Peacefully Uncle and see you again.... In my dreams.
P.s. I wish Becky would get with the programme and make random appearances as you do... I miss her too.