Hard week

[nlbarber]

Last week (that is, not the one just ending, but last week) was a hard one, physically and (somewhat) emotionally. Tuesday morning my uncle died--the last of my father's four siblings. My father was the oldest, but the only child who did not get myotonic dystrophy in the great genetic dice-throw, and so he has out-lived three sisters and one brother.

Uncle Albert was a devoted church-goer, a deacon and Sunday school superintendent in a Baptist church (the one I was raised in until I fled for the Episcopal church in high school), active in the local Democratic Party back when Jimmy Carter ran for governor and then President, a Rotarian. Wednesday morning my younger brother and I drove down for the visitation and the funeral, returning to Atlanta Thursday afternoon.

I can't say I was very close to my uncle, but he was very much a presence in my life. He and my father ran several family businesses together (and with their father until his death), sharing the office on the second floor of a downtown building in Moultrie, Ga. Like many small south Georgia towns, Moultrie has a collection of mostly 2-story brick buildings that surround the courthouse square. The second stories are often not in use, or are storage for the store on the first floor. But this space has been used continuously since at least the 1950's, furnished with items from the 1930's when my grandfather got started, upgraded in places with fixtures or furniture left over from various construction jobs (one of the family businesses was a general contracting firm).

All that seems needed to remember Uncle Albert. He'd come through the little storage room to my father's office, settle into a chair, and ask a question or hand Daddy some item to read and comment on. Or he'd ask me something about school, or (later) my job, or whatever. More recently he'd ask what I thought about some stock choice--investing was the primary activity of the surviving family businesses of late. Or make a little joke. He was not a back-slapping type, but quiet, willing to involve you in the discussion at hand. For the last year or so he had not been able to get to the office very often, so the transition was perhaps eased a little for my father. But when I think of visiting Moultrie, it'll hard to remember that Albert isn't there any more.

Comments

I'm sorry

[jfsnyder.livejournal.com]

I am sorry for your loss. Your uncle sounds like he was a good man. Dave has 11 aunts & uncles on his father's side and one each on his mother's side. They all remained in contact with each other (some more than others on his dad's side). My father is an only child and my mother's only brother is not in contact with us at all. I truly don't know if or how many cousins I have.

I hope that you and your brother are able to provide comfort for each other and your father in the coming weeks. Virtual hugs.

- Joyce

Re: I'm sorry

[nlbarber]

Thanks. My father still manages to keep busy at lots of tasks, and that's a big help.

We're a pretty close family on my father's side (my mother was an only child, and I don't know any of the extended family well on that side), and that's an incredible benefit I didn't appreciate for quite a while. Besides this uncle and his family living in the same small town as my family, we lived next door to my grandparents and had another set of first cousins living on the same block for a few years. (They later moved out of state.) Then there was lots of contact with some third cousins, and first cousins-once-removed, and more. When I consider some friends who don't know *any* of their cousins, or only a few first cousins, I marvel at how lucky I am.

[coalboy.livejournal.com]

sympathy & hug

[toraks.livejournal.com]

a bit late, but *hugs* anyway!

[filkferengi]

My condolences, Nancy. Has anyone considered putting together a scrapbook of memories about your uncle, or other departed family members? Would it comfort your dad to know that memories of his generation are being preserved for future generations?