A brief entry in Rambling sane thoughts of the terminally me

  • Oct. 28, 2016, 9:30 a.m.
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  • Public

It’s been so long since I’ve posted in here but I can’t write about this on social media yet I feel the need to say it and write it down.

My Uncle Pete died last night.

My family have always been exceptionally close and I would gravely feel the loss of any of them but Uncle Pete and Aunty Margie have always been a core to my life. They were unable to have children and I always felt that affection got transferred to their nephews and nieces and (though I might be selfish here) especially to Dan, Emma and myself.

Birthdays and Christmases, every year long past the point they should have stopped. Meals out in Newcastle; parties and anniversaries. Every single family gathering. Till the last two.

When my parents celebrated their most recent anniversary, Uncle Pete and Auntie Margie couldn’t make it. Uncle Pete was not massively well. A previously eliminated cancer had resurfaced and they were having trouble fighting it. The problem was it was in his neck but that’s nearly always a secondary cancer and they couldn’t find the primary one.

They found it all right. It was everywhere.

I went over to see them a couple of months back and he was like a ghost, thin and pale but he was still laughing and joking. I called to see if they needed any help. They were fine.

My Mum and Auntie Jo came up to see me this week and we went out for dinner. No Uncle Pete or Auntie Margie. Mum had been in to see him and told me he didn’t have long. I promised to call and help in any way I could.

I didn’t get to. He died last night and I didn’t get to help him or thank him for everything and for his love and kindness across the years. I feel so guilty that I didn’t call him just one last time. That I let other, less important stresses, get in the way of the people I loved and who I might have been able to help or just to have one last coffee with.

Thank you for everything Uncle Pete. I promise I’m going to do everything I can to help Auntie Margie now you’re gone and I am so grateful for everything you ever did for me. You were a brilliant person and a wonderful Uncle. I’ll miss you.


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