My Uncle has passed. Uncle Marty lived with my parents from before I was born. Growing up I was never home alone sick. I never didn’t have a ride where I needed to go. He never missed a Little League practice, no less games. He never missed a moment that mattered in my life.
When I was 6 years old, Uncle took me to Washington DC. He wanted to show me where he lived, to take me to the museums and historical sites. We saw just about everything in 3 days, even though I kept making him come back to the Air and Space Museum. I loved space, and he loved planes, and we loved each other.
I always thought one day I would take that trip again with him and my own child.
My sister and I are his only niece and nephew. Just as we are the only grandchildren of my grandmother Elaine, his mother, who passed just one month ago. I have been filled with more love than just about any person I know because of them. My grandmother struggled for 8 years with illness and decline before passing at 87. My uncle disappeared before our eyes in a month at 67.
I am hollow.