Intro

Someday, I'll write a book...for now, here's my blog.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Uncle Reyn

     I attended my uncle’s funeral service today…his death was not natural.  While suicide would seem the most obvious answer, there are things surrounding his death that are very strange.  Regardless, though, he was stolen from us.  Now, I realize that anyone who does not die of old age could be said to have been “stolen,” but this was somehow…moreso.  Some human took my uncle’s life.  It should not have been so.
     The service was beautiful, full of memories and anecdotes, tears and laughter.  I never realized how truly brilliant he was until today, when I heard more stories about him than I ever had before.  Many people from various parts of his life were kind enough to share some of theirs, and then it was the family’s turn.  While I was not his child, I chose to say a word, as well:

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     My Uncle Reyn and I had one of the best uncle/niece relationships you could ask for.  Like the best uncle, he was mischievous and fun, with a twinkle in his eye and a song in his heart.  And his heart was huge; the one word that comes to mind when I think of him is “generous”.  Almost every time I went to his house, especially when I was younger, I would meet someone new.  He was always sharing everything with everyone; he held nothing back.
     In fact, he took me on a couple of trips with him, just because he felt like taking me.  When I was thirteen, it was two weeks in Chile, and when I was nine, a week and a half in The Netherlands.  I have been eternally grateful for the culture I was able to experience in Chile, and the wonderful views and people there.  Unfortunately, I don’t remember much from the Netherlands trip, but I do remember one thing very strongly.
     One day, we went sailing on a lake to have a picnic on an island.  Mind you, this is the Netherlands; it’s cold.  But a few of our party were swimming, anyway, and they all kept trying to convince me to go in the water with them.  I resisted repeatedly, until Uncle Reyn taunted me, saying I was “too scared” to get in the water.  At that point, not wanting to be a wimp, I jumped in…and immediately regretted it.
     Now, I don’t know whether he intended to teach me a lesson (probably not), but after that, I vowed to never be swayed by taunting again.  Of course, I was a teenager for a while, so I did give in to peer pressure on occasion, but anytime someone said I was “too scared” to do something, I didn’t care.  They weren’t convincing me that way.

     A sense of loss is produced when we know what something could have been, and then it never comes to be.  We are mourning today for the loss of potential – potential years, potential memories, potential time.  But, as my brother TJ so wisely pointed out, we have to focus on the fact that we had the privilege of passing years, making memories, and spending time with this wonderful, amazing, loving man.  Of course, we wish he’d been able to stay with us longer in this world, but as long as we keep him and what he gave us alive in our minds, hearts, and souls, he’ll be with us as long as we live.

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     The sad thing is, part of me still entertains the idea that he could have stolen a cadaver, set it up like a suicide, left all his things, and headed to Utah to herd the cows with Miv as my grandma suggested to him eight times on Christmas Day, when we last saw him.  I know it’s unlikely, especially for him to leave the dog, cats, and alpacas behind without taking care of them first, but…it’s such a wonderful thought -- that I could someday find him, lean and bright-eyed, beard all grown out, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, with that radiant smile back on his face.  He’d scoop me into a hug, look me in the eye, and in mock seriousness, boop me on the nose.  Then I’d boop him back, we’d have a good laugh, and talk about life.  He’d ask me how I’ve been, I’d tell him, “Pretty good.”  Then he’d tell me about all the adventures he’d had on the motorcycle he’d bought when he moved out west, and invite me to come along on another one with him, just like old times.  Of course, I’d accept, and off we’d ride to tackle the world.


     I love you, Uncle Reyn.  I hope you’re having fun, wherever you are. <3

Part 2

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