I've talked about my Uncle here before. It was in the early years of this blog when he unexpectedly passed away and Steve, Autumn and I made that trip to New England. Five years ago when I watched as his fire station gave him a fire fighter's funeral and tons of past and present first responders came to pay their respects. Five years ago was the first time I truly saw him as a fire fighter and not just as my Uncle.
A lot has happened in our family since then. New babies, new marriages, new houses, new careers and there are times when I find myself thinking, "Man, he would've loved this" or "Damn, I wish he was here." Five years ago those thoughts would have brought on a nice, healthy ugly cry but now, more often than not, I just smile. I smile because I know that he is here. I know that he is here the same way I know that my name is Kim. I can hear him in the little things, when I am unsure of what to do. I can see him through the stories I tell my children.
Autumn and Nate know who Uncle Bob was. They know that he was Mommy's Uncle, married to Aunt Sue. They know that he had a deep voice and a loud laugh and would pay a dollar a minute for a good back scratch. They know that he was a fire fighter and spent his life keeping people safe, even if
it meant putting himself in danger. They know that he is now keeping Jesus safe in Heaven.
To celebrate the life of this amazing man, my sisters, cousins and I deliver donuts to our local fire stations. It is our way of thanking them for all that they do and thanking them for the brotherhood that they have. A brotherhood that lasts even through death.
It is simple traditions like this, traditions that we pass onto our children, that keep him and everything he taught us, alive.
"Just because someone dies, just because you can't see them or talk to them anymore, it doesn't mean they're not still in the painting, and I think that's maybe the point of the whole thing. There's no dying. There's no you, me, or them, it's just us."
