Uncle Paul
Aunt Polly and uncle Paul.
My extended family is an intelligent and funny one. Out of all of them, no one has a better sense of humor than my uncle Paul.
He was 17 when my father (an “oops” baby) was born. Uncle Paul went off to Germany to fight in WWII soon after my dad arrived upon the scene. So he didn’t have a lot of experience with babies.
Once while home on leave, he changed my dad’s diaper but my dad was still crying. Come to find out, he had safetypinned the diaper TO THE BABY. My dad must have forgiven him, because that story was told every year at the family reunion, my dad laughing along with everyone else.
During his time serving in Germany, he must have seen a lot of things because he was right there in it, fighting on the front lines. During a visit to his home when I was a teenager, he showed me a german solider’s helmet he brought back from the war, along with other Nazi artifacts he obtained from dead german soliders. Always looking for the joke even at that young age, he told of being on patrol and coming across a dead german. He put the soliders coat and helmet on, then went back to his camp and jumped out of the bushes: “Look at me! I’m a GEEERRRRMMAAANN!”
He said that wasn’t so smart, and probably the closest he came in the whole war to being shot.
Being around uncle Paul was being around laughter. Like my uncle Harve (his brother), uncle Paul was an expert storyteller and he loved history. There truly never was a dull moment with uncle Paul around.
When my aunt Polly (his wife) died back in the late ’90’s, uncle Paul was depressed and never did seem to come out of it. As his years alone passed, he developed heart problems. Then the most heartbreaking diagnosis of all: Alzheimers.
About three weeks ago, my cousins (with his agreement) finally came to the conclusion that they couldn’t let him live by himself any more. They arranged for a nice apartment for him in an assisted living facility. A week after moving in, one of my cousins arrived to visit him and couldn’t find him in his room. They found him unconscious, lying in the garden under a hot Louisiana sun.
After the stroke, his children kept constant vigil at his bedside. Struggling to swallow and stand, he had good days and bad. Then he had a pulmonary emblolism, then his kidneys started to fail.
This dear man passed away this morning.
Uncle Paul, you’ve been lonely and lost since your wife died several years ago, and I know you’re with her now. I can see your spirit going anywhere in the world it wants to go now, no longer held back by a body that is tired and worn out, and a mind encumbered by the fog of Alzheimers.
I don’t know for sure about God, heaven, or the afterlife, but I do believe that energy doesn’t die, and you my dear were all energy.
Thank you for being such a good dad to my four cousins, who are just amazing people. Thank you for your years of teaching college students geography. I sat in on one of your classes once, so I know first-hand that you were a brilliant and engaging teacher. Thank you for everything you’ve brought to my life. I love you and I’ll miss you very much.
What a wonderful tribute to Uncle Paul.
Comment by Susan — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 10:38 am
Though I have never met him, the love in your words moved me deeply - it saddens me that I never got a chance to meet this wonderful man, and it saddens me even more that he’s gone from your world. Gone in only the physical sense, though, of course; in your heart and memories he’ll always be the man you remember from those family gatherings.
Love to you, Mary, and a great big hug, too. *hugs*
Comment by Kim — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 12:21 pm
I’m so sorry…what a lovely man he must have been.
Comment by Ann Surely — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 1:30 pm
That was beautiful.
Comment by B² — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 4:14 pm
Sounds like Uncle Paul and I would have gotten along JUST fine. The world has lost a good one. My thoughts are of you and your family.
Comment by Cranky — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 7:58 pm
aw man
I’m so sorry to hear about your uncle. He sounds awesome.
Comment by Cy — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 8:50 pm
My condolences, and may Uncle Paul visit you in your dreams…
Comment by radmila — Saturday, August 13, 2005 @ 9:15 pm
Sounds like Uncle Paul was a great guy. I lost one of my funny uncles last year. He once tried to convince me he was Sitting Bull reincarnated. I came *this close* to buying it. Rest well Uncle Paul and Uncle Joe. May whatever spirits that inhabit the place where you are appreciate a damn fine sense of humor.
Comment by Noelle — Sunday, August 14, 2005 @ 12:48 am
Lovely words, he’d be very moved.
Comment by Lynne — Sunday, August 14, 2005 @ 6:47 pm
Your Uncle Paul sounds like he was a very special man. I’m sorry for your loss and am thinking of you.
Comment by jaime — Monday, August 15, 2005 @ 12:05 am
I’m sorry for your loss Mary *hugs*
Comment by Patti — Monday, August 15, 2005 @ 3:40 am
He left great stories and it’s good of you to record them. I’ sorry for you loss.
Comment by elsa — Monday, August 15, 2005 @ 5:35 am
A hug for you, Mary. He sounds like the kind of Uncle everyone should have.
Comment by Keith — Tuesday, August 16, 2005 @ 9:31 pm