Friday, May 4, 2007
Raise Your Milk Duds and Toast My Uncle Bud
Although I vowed that this blog would be about nothing but happy things, like sunshine and unicorns, sometimes sad things happen. My uncle Bud passed away yesterday. He had a stroke several months ago that left him incapacitated, and he was in a nursing home. It was one of those things that was expected but is still painful when it happens.
Uncle Bud was one of those men for whom chivalry would never die. When I visited him and Aunt Mary several years ago, he insisted on driving me back to my hotel and walking me to my room, so that I wouldn't be accosted by the Overland-Park-Kansas-variety crazies.
Uncle Bud was not the happiest man. My mom always said it was because he missed his sister and their mother. (Both women died young.) So he always carried with him a little element of sadness that grew harder and harder to cover up as he grew older. But when Uncle Bud laughed, it was the loudest and jolliest sound I ever heard. That laugh made being around him a treat.
I have discovered that if you can remember how someone laughed, you never really forget that person. Uncle Bud loved the Royals, introduced me to Milk Duds, celebrated St. Patrick's Day like a proper Irishman, and had a laugh that you could feel from the soles of your feet to the top of your head.
I'll miss you, Uncle Bud.