Last week I learned that my Uncle Bobby died. That makes 3 deaths in 2 months, in case you’re keeping track. The first was my Aunt Karen (my stepmom’s sister-in-law), the second was my ex mother-in-law, Lindy, who had suffered a stroke about 5 years previously and now, my uncle Bobby (my mother’s brother)
Uncle Bobby was, by far, the closest to me of the 3. This one hurts quite a lot. I’m fucking sad and mad at the same time. I hate that getting older means people die. Sigh*
I use to visit his home on the regular. We played Little People before they were plastic. I got my tongue stuck to his freezer when my cousin (Mandy) dared me to, and had to rescue me with warm water and a popsicle (Yes, I see the irony of the popsicle but I’d torn off part of my tongue soo the bastard frig owed me!)
Unca Bobby had a legendary metabolism, he was as skinny as a rail, but ate like a lumberjack! They use to tell stories of his incredible eating. My mom said they use to make two cakes for Unca Bobby’s birthday..one for him and one for everyone else!
I’ll miss you Unca Bobby! You always made me feel like one of your kids. Rest Peacefully.
I love you.