Uncle Kean, we will miss you
We had some sad news over the weekend. On Sunday we learned that my Uncle Kean died suddenly and unexpectedly. The circumstances at this point are not entirely clear, but it appears that he suffered from a heart attack or that his heart suddenly stopped.
My uncle was a young man, incredibly vibrant and full of life. He brought so much joy to everyone who knew him. Every room he ever walked into lit up with his sparkle and magic. He had a way of making people feel loved and cared for like no one else. To be a guest in his home or at his dinner table was a real treat. He could throw a party like nobody's business.
He and his partner of 14 years or so made a beautiful life together in San Francisco. He and Jim met around the same time as Arwen and me. Having been lucky enough to experience for myself loving and being loved by someone completely and unconditionally, I am so grateful that my uncle was fortunate to have shared his life with such a wonderful person. And now my heart goes out to Jim in what is no doubt an incomparable loss.
Losing someone suddently is so hard because it takes so long for it to sink in. I feel like I suffer over and over again the terrible realization that I won't see his beaming face again. That I won't see him at Christmas like we planned. That he won't ever get to hold our little peanut.
I had been trying to get in touch with Uncle Kean the last couple of weeks to share our good news with him. When I picked up Jim's voicemail on my cell phone I thought at first that he was returning my message. But then the tone of his voice made it readily apparent that he was calling with terrible news.
I so wanted to get to tell Uncle Kean that he was about to be a great uncle. I couldn't wait to tell him about my midwife and the hospital we picked. As a former RN, he was the one who planted the idea of using a midwife in my head to begin with. I was counting on him being around to help explain this 'crazy idea' to any doubters in our family. I feel so cheated, so robbed of getting to share this amazing experience with him. And I feel like the whole world has been robbed of the light and love that he so freely offered of himself.
So many people have said to me - when I expressed regret at not getting a chance to tell Uncle Kean that we're pregnant - "Don't worry; he knows all about that now." Whether or not that is true, I can't say. But I do believe that my dear uncle will live on in each of us whose lives he touched, who carry a piece of him in their hearts. And I know he will be with me in that delivery room when it comes time to dig deep and find all the strength that I can muster.
I intend for this blog to be a happy place, so I'm sorry for this somber tone. I just felt like I could not post cheerful musings or belly photos or anything else without stopping for a moment to acknowledge this loss.