I never claimed to be a great scribe. I'm jealous of those more eloquent than I , especially at times like these. You see, I lost my uncle today. He was a Great Man (capital letters intended). When I picture larger than life people, he's in that crowd. Everything about him was big – his waistline, his appetites, his lifestyle, his philosophies.
Here is an excerpt of what I wrote to my dad:
I can hear his laugh. He had a distinctive scraping noise he made in the back of his throat before laughing out loud. Big eyes. Big heart. Great laugh.
I will always picture him in the great recliner in his den in the house in White Plains watching the New York Giants on the big TV (before anyone else had a big TV).
I will always remember the engaging conversations about the market. He would get so excited that his words would sometimes not keep up with his thoughts. It was occasionally hard to follow him, but you could tell he was passionate and excited and since he felt it was important, you tried even harder to understand.
This is especially hard for me now. As most of you know, I am 8000 miles away in this God-forsaken desert of Iraq. If you know me well, you know how important family is to me. This is a time to be close to family, and I can't be there. It tears me up inside. I called, and that helped, but nothing beats a hug and a meal and listening to the stories that are being told in close quarters right now.
Rest in Peace, Unc. You earned it.