Posted by Loulou on Jan 16, 2016 | 8 comments

Happy birthday, mama’s brother; we are thinking of you.

I just realized, that on this date a few years ago, January 16, mama’s brother’s birthday, I wrote a blog about him that started

“Today mama’s brother is 80 years old.

Today he is moving into what is called The Memory Wing of the rest home where he has been for some time, at least since he began having trouble with his own memory and other physical problems.”

And I wanted to remember him today because he died last year and will have no more birthdays.

He loved kitties. He was a kitty rescuer and was so happy when his tiny new arrival, a feral kitten, showed up for her breakfast each morning outside his glass doors and mewed for her kibble.  This was before he had to be moved to a home.  But there was a communal kitty there, thank heaven, which he loved a let into his room to prowl around and snooze.

I wonder why we don’t have Deathdays? To be remembered on the day you died is also a tribute, if perhaps a day with more sadness than joy.

Still…

So Happy Birthday to mama’s brother, wherever he is—perhaps playing his amazing bagpipes; working out strategies for the battles he used to have with friends using his own marvelous toy soldiers, each one painted by hand; chatting with each and every stall owner at an open market, inquiring about their lives and families and leaving smiles wherever he went.  Or perhaps he is just rocking on screened porch, enjoying the sweet air of Texas hill country, watching the golden sunset with a nice glass of equally golden single malt.

We are all sad that he is not here to blow out candles. But he is probably lighting his own somewhere and they are burning bright.