How We Found Uncle Pat
by Kathy Gail
January, 2010
All we knew was that he was Daddy's somewhat eccentric younger brother who talked funny, told corny jokes, had a stiff leg, smoked a pipe and lived in Ohio with his wife, Mary. We saw him occasionally through the years, but never got to know him.
Almost three years ago, at a cousin's funeral, we ran into Uncle Pat. His face was deeply lined with grief at the recent passing of his beloved Mary, and his eyes were dim. He reached out to us like a drowning man gasping for air, and pulled us in to the shelter of his arms.
Little by little, as each of us developed relationships individually with Uncle Pat, he became interwoven into the very fabric of our lives, so much a part of our family that it has become difficult to imagine being without him. To borrow a phrase from one of Betty's songs, "eleven children, now all grown" have been blessed at this point in our lives with the unconditional love of our Uncle Pat. Like our parents, he loves each of us and takes pride in us. Also like them, he "does not play favorites," no matter how hard we compete for his favoritism (just kidding!)
It is almost impossible to find the words to express how much we appreciate the way Uncle Pat has drawn us in and enriched our lives. Already there are so many stories, though they are too fresh to write. We have been able to honor him with the attached song, "His Plan For Me," that I wrote for him a couple of years ago. Betty and I do the vocals, Winfred plays guitar, and cousin Tim Powers plays the mandolin. The message about how much he is needed has proven more true than we realized at the time. The number of people who "need him so" grows bigger every day.
January, 2010
All we knew was that he was Daddy's somewhat eccentric younger brother who talked funny, told corny jokes, had a stiff leg, smoked a pipe and lived in Ohio with his wife, Mary. We saw him occasionally through the years, but never got to know him.
Almost three years ago, at a cousin's funeral, we ran into Uncle Pat. His face was deeply lined with grief at the recent passing of his beloved Mary, and his eyes were dim. He reached out to us like a drowning man gasping for air, and pulled us in to the shelter of his arms.
Little by little, as each of us developed relationships individually with Uncle Pat, he became interwoven into the very fabric of our lives, so much a part of our family that it has become difficult to imagine being without him. To borrow a phrase from one of Betty's songs, "eleven children, now all grown" have been blessed at this point in our lives with the unconditional love of our Uncle Pat. Like our parents, he loves each of us and takes pride in us. Also like them, he "does not play favorites," no matter how hard we compete for his favoritism (just kidding!)
It is almost impossible to find the words to express how much we appreciate the way Uncle Pat has drawn us in and enriched our lives. Already there are so many stories, though they are too fresh to write. We have been able to honor him with the attached song, "His Plan For Me," that I wrote for him a couple of years ago. Betty and I do the vocals, Winfred plays guitar, and cousin Tim Powers plays the mandolin. The message about how much he is needed has proven more true than we realized at the time. The number of people who "need him so" grows bigger every day.
