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In loving memory of my Dear Uncle Peter

This is the story of a truly remarkable man and the loving memories I cherish.

People come and go in our lives few ever leaving residual positivity.

In truth Peter didn’t do this either. Instead he somehow managed to inject so much more into the soul leaving something behind tending these residuals.

It’s the blessedness in reflection and what I felt when basking in his light that writes this story.

He never once failed to exude a sense I was of highest priority, even when in a group. How he did this defies any reasoning and is near impossible to explain.

In essence, I suppose, if a miracle can take human form it did so through him.

The Hospital Visit

Up until quite recently I’d not seen my dear Uncle Peter until visiting him in Hospital. To be honest, the circumstances sucked as he was being treated for late stage pancreatic cancer.

Initially he’d not recognized me as he’d just left surgery Uncle Peter and was influenced by whatever drugs they’d given him. Honestly I was not well prepared for what I saw either; a sunken, pallid, shell of a man whom I remember as larger than life.

It seems life wanted to level the playing field a little by exacting one fucking cruel toll.

Sitting at his bedside I could see him struggling against grogginess but he persevered and it wasn’t long before he was my Uncle once again.

I’ll never know how he managed to fight through it? I was in surgery last for a near compound fracture on my right arm and I slept for 3 days.

…but this is Peter and he does what he does because he does it, period.

With every passing minute he became more lucid and more aware.

We spent those hours hand in hand exchanging pleasantries, reminiscing. All words spoken heavily saturated by emotion.

I’d never held a mans hand so long nor told anyone, save my daughter, how much I love them in more rapid fire succession.

Leaving the Hospital was impossible yet inevitable.

Catching his gaze over my shoulder I’ll not forget as long as I live. He understood of course it was time to go yet his face appeared pained.

A haunting image if there ever is one, it does not fit well with my other memories.

The entire drive home I spent choking on tears.

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