Cards from My Uncle

A couple of months ago, I was at Mom's house, and we were going thorough a bunch of Dad's old stuff.  Some of it was throughout his life and some of it was from his time up at the Wellsted. 

One of the things we ran across was this:  

This is a stack of cards written from Dad's brother, my uncle, to Dad while Dad was sick.  

Take a good look at this stack.  It's huge.  And what I'm not showing you is what is inside the card.  It wasn't just some token "Love, Your Brother" sign off.  Each and every one contained a long, hand written note.  

Now, to those of you that know my Uncle that will come as no surprise, as he is a man with a fantastic gift of gab.  But what is remarkable is the quantity, quality and the care.  Remember: Dad was horribly sick for most of this period.  And that upon receiving a card, and perhaps reading it, he'd have no memory of it just seconds later.  And at the end, he wouldn't have been able to read it at all.  But that didn't matter to my Uncle - the cards just kept coming.  

And while Dad may not have been able to enjoy them, I can't convey how nice it was, when visiting Dad, to go through his "mail" and read and talk about what my Uncle had written.  It was such a nice thing to discuss, but more than that, it always lifted my heart to know that someone out there still remembered Dad was there and that somebody still cared.  In a very tangible way.  

As a big brother, I'd like to think that what my Uncle did was just the kind of thing that big brothers do.  But that would not be fair.  His kindness a love were extraordinary, and on behalf of the rest of the family, I'd like to thank him, albeit late.