The Funeral Gift

My uncle died on Sept. 27, 2006. His funeral was the next day - it was the day of my birthday. I travelled to Montreal to be in attendance. He was an unbelievable man. Tall, handsome, and powerfully charismatic. He had a dimple in his chin and his smile could warm any soul. He filled the room when he was in it - his voice, his swagger, his accent and intonation. Kids were drawn to him and he gave them the attention that so few others knew how to give. He left a lot of people behind that really loved and admired who he was. I saw the bulk of my entire family at the funeral. I cried, I laughed, I blew my nose. I kissed a lot of people - some whom I didn't even know. I sat huddled with one of my cousins during the ulogy. I watched my uncle's wife and his daughter carefully to see how they were managing and how they were reacting to the onslaught of visitors. I was alert and my senses were keenly aware of the activity surrounding me. I spoke to people I hadn't seen in ages. I drank a toast in my uncle's honor and ate the foods he was always delighted to eat. I held my mother's hand as she cried for her brother. I was uniquely alive that day. What a tremendous birthday gift.