My uncle.
His daughter, my cousin, lost her husband - I'm assuming unexpectedly - on Monday of the very same week. Please keep her + her family lifted in your prayers.
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I met them all for the first time - that I remember - when my dad died in 1999 - at the viewing.
Growing up, I had seen pictures that my mom had of my brother and me with my cousin and her brother. We were all pretty close in age. But my parents separated when I was very young, so I don't recall any memories of my dad or those cousins from childhood.
My dad grew up + died in Springfield, TN.
My uncle + aunt, and both cousins live in + around Mt Juliet.
I've been living in Nashville since 2004 but had never really made much of a point to reach out.
I found both my cousins on Facebook many years ago and sent them friend requests - but that was the extent of my attempts to "connect". Upon becoming social media friends, I learned that my cousin went to high school with my former sister-in-law and that they were friends. Small world.
Back in 2009, I remember reaching out to my uncle by phone when I was having a lot of medical issues. I knew he owned a business locally, so I looked up the number and left him a voicemail. When he called me back, we chatted briefly about my dad's health issues, and about what doctors and hospitals he went to, but that was the extent of our conversation.
...
From what little I know of my dad's life and his past, I gather that he was kind of the proverbial black sheep of the family. He went in the Army, went off to the war in Vietnam, and came back with a wife - my mom. I don't know much of the happenings between my mother and father - as my mom spoke very little about him most of my life.
All I know is he left when I was very young and my mother struggled a lot as a single mom.
My earliest memory of my dad was going to see him for a short visit in a hotel room on base with my brother. - I'm assuming it was in Arizona - where we lived before I started grade school. I later found out that the reason for the visit was that he was ordered to appear in court over child support and had asked if he could see us while he was in town.
The story that I've pieced together is that my father left my mom for a German woman with several kids. - I have no idea if that's actually the truth, or if it's just how my mind wove different pieces of the story together as my mom threw out little tidbits over the years. I learned to just not ask her about him.
He never made an effort to contact us again until I was in middle school.
He went through my best friend's parents to get a message to us and left it up to us to decide if we wanted to talk to him. I remember being the one to call and talk to him first. I wasn't eager or excited, more so, indifferent, I guess. But it took a lot longer for my brother to get on the phone with him - because my brother was older, he remembered the broken promises our dad made to him and experienced that hurt.
My dad shared during our first phone conversation that he had recently gotten saved and that was the catalyst for trying to reconnect with his kids.
...
On Friday evening, my cousin's son sent me a message that my uncle had passed that morning and shared that funeral arrangements were probably going to be set for Sunday. I thanked him for the information and asked that he keep me updated. I got the official service information on Saturday.
I ho-hummed and went back-and-forth about attending.
I went to church on Sunday morning, as usual.
Came home, changed into my jammies, ate some lunch, and vegged out on the couch for an hour or so with Stephen + Xander.
Visitation was 1-3pm with the Celebration of Life service at 3pm - and the funeral home was literally less than 10 minutes away from my house.
I don't know why, but I felt like I just needed to be there, even though I hadn't seen any of them in 24 years. So I got myself ready, drove really slow to the funeral home, and walked in a little after 2:30.
Thankfully, my cousin's son immediately recognized me when I walked in and came over to talk to me. He grabbed a few relatives as they passed by to introduce me and I was able to see both my cousins and my aunt briefly before the service began. I also learned that his sister went to Mt Juliet High with my daughter before she moved schools to Green Hill High. - And that he had done an ancestry deep dive into our family tree - which I'm kind of fascinated to hear more about.
I sat midway back - by myself - through the service for my uncle.
I learned that he was a devoted man of God.
He and my aunt were married for 55 years.
Both his kids - my cousins - are successful, married - only once - and are devoted to their faith, their spouses, and their families.
He was very active in church, and the lives of his children, and the lives of his grandchildren.
As I sat and listened to the preacher speak all these amazing things about my uncle, I kept referring back to words printed on the program about all of my uncle's personal and professional accomplishments. I found myself wondering how different our lives might have been had my dad clung to the Christian upbringing he was raised in. I also wondered if my uncle was the one interceding to God on my dad's behalf before he got saved and recommitted his life to God - and then to us.
...
Most of you know, I didn't meet my dad until the week of my high school graduation in 1997, but we spoke on the phone regularly throughout those years after he got saved.
He came down to Panama City to attend my graduation and to spent a few days visiting with my brother and me.
He gave me a Bible as a graduation present.
He misspelled my middle name in it - Ha - but I never felt the need to say anything to him about it.
It's still the Bible I use when I pull out an actual Bible - that's not the Bible app on my phone.
I remember him voicing concerns about my driving and how I was always messing with the radio while driving - Ha - Not much has changed. - Sorry, Dad.
I recall him always urging me to get back into church - but to be sure to find a church that preached the Word of God - not one that preached any "New Age mombo-jombo" as he called it.
We had made a few trips up to Springfield, and he had made one or two more trips down to Panama City before he fell sick.
The week leading up to his passing in October of 1999, was kind of a blur.
But I remember the last thing he asked me before I left to go back to Panama City for a few days, was if I would sing at his funeral. - And that he hung on just long enough for my brother to make it up to see him that same night, and then passed the very next morning.
I remember meeting my cousin for the first time at the viewing, and through the tears (and the snot), I sob-laughed about how I always wanted to meet her.
After I moved to Nashville in 2004, I only made a few trips to Springfield to visit my Grandmother and my dad's youngest brother - who lived with her - to make them dinner a few times.
I often drive to Springfield for clients or classes, and always make a stop at his burial site when I'm driving through.
...
After my uncle's service on Sunday, I hung around - kind of awkwardly - waiting to say goodbye to my cousin and give her a hug. She was up front crying in the arms of another woman I didn't know or recognize, so I just hovered at a comfortable distance trying to hold all my emotions in - I didn't understand why I was feeling so much.
After a few minutes of watching her cry, I stepped in to offer her some clean tissue and she turned to the other woman and said "This is Sylvia, Uncle Ray's daughter." I could see her start to tear up, as she asked if I knew who she was. All I could do was shake my head "no" as my composure crumbled and I started ugly-crying. I think she was an aunt or cousin of my dad's and she remembered me from when I was the chunky little girl in this picture.
It's a little weird walking into a room full of people you don't know, but who all know you.
My family life has been dysfunctional for as long as I can remember.
I honestly couldn't tell you why I never made more of an effort to connect with my dad's side of the family before now.
I think part of it was that I didn't want anyone to feel like I was reaching out because I needed financial help or wanted anything aside from a relationship from them.
But after Sunday, I see now that it was more about being uncomfortable, emotional, and vulnerable.
- The fear of being judged.
- The fear of being different.
- The fear...
Fear robs us of so much.
...
Social media paints an illusion of connection and being close to one another. But it's all a lie.
I set a personal goal for myself this year:
To seek out real CONNECTION with others - specifically other women.
To dive deeper + be intentional about cultivating connection + growing relationships.
To not shy away from new friendships because the old ones seem "easier".
Nursing school is crazy isolating.
Lately, I've been personally struggling in my relationships with some of my closest friends who are not in nursing school.
It's easy to not feel supported when you've be grinding so hard in your education and as a result you've lost touch with your inner circle.
But recently, God's been showing me regularly that growth is, more often than not, uncomfortable.
- Not just for the person going through it - but for everyone else too - because in your absence - they've been grinding + growing through their own life experiences as well.
I'm learning that it's totally okay to outgrow friendships and be in seasons of disconnect.
- And that everyone deserves grace.
I kind of feel like everything about last week was God - and mayyyybeeee even a little of my earthly father - showing me that walking into super uncomfortable situations, and being open + vulnerable - regardless of the debilitating fear - can open doors to potential relationships that I never would have the chance to experience + grow in if I hadn't taken that step out of fear and into faith.
❤️
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