The Passing

I promise I'm working on part two of my post about diet and health, but I wanted to write about something that's on my mind today.

My Uncle Richard -- my mom's brother -- passed away last night. It was expected; he'd had lung cancer and it was obvious to everyone that the end was near. My mom called this morning to tell me and said that the visitation and funeral would likely be next Monday or Tuesday.

I was sad, of course, but mainly in the way that it's sobering when anyone you know dies. I wasn't particularly close to him, even though he was my godfather and possibly the relative I saw the most growing up. Our family just isn't connected like that.

An hour or so later my sister called. She'd spent some time with my parents this morning and heard more details about my uncle's passing. Apparently my aunt was helping my uncle back from the bathroom in the middle of the night when he suddenly slumped over the bed. Blood began pouring out of his mouth, and then he was gone.

The last words he spoke were to call out for his mother.

I don't know if in some place between life and death Uncle Richard actually saw my grandmother, who died thirty-six years ago. Maybe it's just that it's a primal instinct to call for your mother, at your most vulnerable moment, no matter how old you are.

Then I thought of Henry. He will, most likely and hopefully, live long after I am gone. But I thought of him calling for his mother in his darkest, most difficult moment. I am that person to him.

The tears came, then.