After meeting Uncle Harold only once, my mind couldn't picture what he looked like, still, there was a sadness in my soul that I wasn't able to shake. You see, the timing of an unexpected gift had made me think something was wrong. Days before hearing of Uncle Harold's passing, my husband had received a package from him in the mail. Inside, was a square shaped home-made hot-pad with a picture of a Golden Retriever on the front. With my glasses on, I later noticed that there was a mustard stain on the back. No note or letter had accompanied the gift, so we weren't sure what the occasion was. The only thing that made sense was the dog. Uncle Harold used to call and have quite lengthy talks with his nephew about dogs, ours and his. So, naturally, my husband called his uncle to thank him, but to no avail. By the third day, I began to worry. On the fourth, we heard the news. Uncle Harold had been found on his knees, with his arms and head on the couch, as if he had been praying.
All of this makes me wonder if Uncle Harold, known for his survivor-type lifestyle in a woodsy area of upper Michigan, had had a sense of what was to come. Not being able to reach him on the phone had lead to calling other relatives which lead to one of them going to his home. If no one had gone to check on him, who knows how long it would have taken to have Uncle Harold's body put to rest.
The pot-holder, with its hand-stitched seams and plastic ring to hang it by, won't be something we'll use in our kitchen. I don't think we'll ever toss it in the washer to get the stains out or put it in a pile for the next rummage sale. After the funeral, I'm pretty sure my husband will put it in a box of other treasures for someone to find someday and wonder why it's there. Meanwhile, if I need a good cry, I'll take out Uncle Harold's gift and picture his thoughts of my dear husband as some of his last.
This week's sea glass photo is called, "Tears".
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