I called my Dad tonight to see whatsup, and if he was coming to my sons birthday party this Sunday. Yes he is.
Now the sad part...
Dads younger brother, my uncle, died last Sunday. I was kind of shocked, but knew he was having a rough time. What irks me is I didn't get a call letting me know. This went away fast when Dad admits he was in denial that one his brothers had passed away. I now understand completely.
Jim was one those guys that I just didn't get to know well enough. I suppose it boils down to we all have our own families to contend with.
There were times that I do remember clearly though. Back in the early to mid seventies, Jim and Dad used to shoot skeet in a league. Of course I was in tow more times than not. On one occasion Dad bet me five bucks that I could not hit one bird. I was about ten or so then. Well I went through the majority of the stations without a hit. Then on the toughest one for right handed shooters I drilled it. Using a .410 bolt action by the way. I was done. Jim just smiled the whole time because he figured the odds must have been in my favor. I nabbed the five spot and headed for the clubhouse for a hot chocolate. Jim just said congratulations. Smug and full of pride, I thanked him.
It's simple I know. But a standout memory for me.
I wish distance would not have seperated us in my more youthful days.
I'll miss him in a distant sort of way...