My uncle, the cool one

The call came a few hours ago. It’s the call from a loved one when you instantly know by tone of voice that something is wrong.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” I asked my dad. My mom couldn’t make it to the phone because her brother, my uncle, just passed away. She was set to leave Wednesday to spend time with him in Sweden. Without another thought, I walked over to my coworker and friend and received the hug I desperately needed.

Having family spread out across continents can be difficult but no matter how far apart we are, we manage to stay in touch and make every effort to see each other when possible.

I spent most summers growing up in Sweden and each family member has left a unique impression on me through the years. My uncle was the cool one. He was this quiet, calm, stubborn gentleman who would unexpectedly make the most hilarious observation about any topic with a straight face. He thought before he spoke and his words were never sugar-coated. The family motto translated in English is the tone is raw but heartfelt. I was scared of him when I was younger because I wasn’t sure how to read his quietness, but we bonded the summer I spent a week sailing with him and my cousin Lotta. The three of us had a fantastic time circling various Swedish and Danish islands, stopping and renting bikes for a few hours and finding good places to bask in our surroundings.

As I grew older, our time together during summer and the occasional winter was always better than the last visit. My uncle would drop by with breakfast buns fresh from the bakery or I would be invited to my uncle and aunt’s home for delicious homemade meals. We would sing snaps visor, drinking songs, during gatherings and I have saved all the letters I received as my uncle preferred to keep his computer, a gift from my cousins, in the attic rather than succumb to the age of technology.

Because my uncle had Leukemia for years, I wasn’t prepared for his health to take a turn for the worst this quickly. With the news steadily declining in recent weeks, I learned to finally accept it. My cousins managed to shift work schedules to be there for my uncle and aunt as he passed away and that speaks volumes about how important they are to each other. I wanted to be there but my mom assured me that it was best that only the immediate family was there. Part of me is grateful that my last image of my uncle is the one from my 2004 visit, pictured here, enjoying drinks and crayfish into the long summer night.

I love him, miss him and will remember him.