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reflecting, remembering, reliving uncle kenny


Reflecting. My uncle passed away last night. He was my one and only uncle. My mom was an only child. My dad had one sister. So, I had one uncle.

Uncle Kenny was a military man. When I was young, I thought it was so cool that they got to live in Germany. I didn't even know where that was, but it was somewhere I'd never been; still haven't.

Almost five years ago, my hubs and I took a road trip to where I was born. It had been scads of years since I'd been to Lakeport. However, I found where my grandparents lived - along with my uncle, aunt and cousins. I thought about the grand adventures Terry and I had. The house no longer existed, but the plot with block retaining wall and outdoor barbecue did.

Returning from a jaunt overseas and to Texas, my cousins landed in the Olympia area. We'd take trips up the I5 corridor to see them. In return, they'd travel to Eugene where our grandparents had a farm. As kids, we'd play for hours in the woods and walk with Pappa to see if the watermelons were ready to eat, or sit on the crank-style ice cream maker, patiently waiting.

When thinking about my uncle, what stood out was his grin and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

One time while up at their place, he and my dad decided it'd be good fun to scare the stink out of us kids. We were all running around in a small wooded, brushy area - in the dark - behind their house. The two of them crept around and started making creepy growling, snarling noises. We ran screaming for the house only to find them in tears of laughter.

I remember my uncle and aunt having time for us. They seemed to be present, living in the moment. Uncle Kenny was gentle and kind. I always viewed him as a teddy bear who could be a bit cantankerous at times.

As I grew older, I could see a certain melancholy in my uncle, especially when the topic of war came up. 

He never really talked about what happened, what he saw, but I knew it was something deep; something he wanted to protect and keep hidden from family. There was no need to burden us.

So, as I sit at a coffee house, staring out the window, watching the gentle snow fall, I'm on the melancholy side. There's sadness for what's lost; gladness for his reunion with my aunt and other gone-before relatives. My heart hurts for my cousins as they walk a lonely road that we all travel at some point.

As I work on releasing some of my emotions, my prayer is: Rest in peace, Uncle Kenny. May all of your unspoken burdens be lifted and replaced with the twinkle in your eyes that I've been reflecting on, remembering and reliving.

Missy


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