written Dec. 24, 2014)
I peek inside the mailbox every day, wishing I could be expecting a Christmas card from you. But I know better. It won't be coming this year. Not like the years that have preceded this one.
We started exchanging Christmas cards 30 years ago.
You came and spent our first Christmas "without Dad" with us. You filled a gaping hole in our hearts, our supper table and our Christmas memories that year.
You have a quiet way of knowing. You look at each one of us and seem to hear so much more than we are saying. You speak everyone's language because you listen with your heart.
You were and still are a favourite uncle to all. We filled pages upon pages within our family's book of stories and memories with all the ways you impacted all of our lives.
You quietly went about your life thousands of miles away from the place you call “home,” yet you remained connected and a great part of our family despite the miles and time that distanced you from us.
Every time you came home, there was great rejoicing among all.
Your nieces and nephews said perhaps it was because you came home at Christmas time, bearing gifts for all (and there were a lot of us). You were our family's very own personal Santa Claus.
You gave and you gave and you gave.
We gave you our hearts, our trust and our loyalty in return.
You were an icon within our family, similar to Santa Claus, only better, because you were real. You weren't just a fictional character who appeared only once a year. You came back home at times of celebration, for reunions, for good times and bad. Santa is a fickle, fair-weather friend. You showed up for “life.”
Yes, it was the year after you "showed up" for our family when I sent you that first Christmas card.
You are such a gentleman. Full of honour, respect, generosity and good manners. You replied to the first letter I sent to you and we became Christmas-time pen pals.
Your letters were always personal. You always asked about my family. You always made some comment about some little quality about "me" you had noticed. You put pen to paper and reading your words was always a gift.
You see what goes on beneath the surface of a person. You speak to that quality. I truly believe your perception brought out the best in people. I know I felt a little more special than I really was when I read your words.
I am so very grateful that life, time and circumstances gave me the opportunity to know you a little more than I knew you beyond our annual Christmas card exchange.
I tentatively invited myself into your world when I approached you with the idea of collecting memories of Dad's family. You were on board before the ship even arrived. You not only encouraged me, you said you thought it would be a great idea before you read my proposal.
And so our voyage began.
