Fri. 3/26/21
Hello Good Person, how are you doing today?
Have you had one or two people (or more) in your life that you treasure for no other reason than just because of who they were (are)? If so, who, and what’s so special about them?
I’ve been blessed with two people from the past who have always held singular places in my heart, Mrs. H. and Uncle N. This post is about my uncle.
N. was mentally challenged for most of his life and he had such a good attitude about it. He was born with an average I.Q., then at eight years old he had a high fever that affected his mental capacity. He remembered being ill and knew how it had changed him but he wasn’t bitter about it. In fact, he’d talk about how he didn’t mind because the cute girls would help him with his school work. (I’m smiling now just thinking about this.) He had a beautiful ‘aw, shucks’ grin when he talked about those cute girls or when someone complimented him. What I appreciated most about him though was his guilelessness, he didn’t have a mean bone in his body and he could only ever be honest about who he was and how he felt.
What I didn’t like was how some people treated him. Even people I thought would know better acted like he was a second class citizen, and that really ticked me off (still does, actually).
As a child I frequently couldn’t understand what Uncle N. was saying but during my teenage years and beyond that changed and I loved to ask him questions, listen to his stories, and make him smile.
For the last decade or so of N.’s life he lived in an assisted living facility. Initially, while he was still pretty mobile and able to take care of himself he seemed to do all right there once he adjusted, but when he needed more help he was moved to a different section. Unfortunately, after that happened he always seemed to have bruises on his body, his smiles became almost nonexistent no matter how hard I’d try to coax one out of him, and he’d adopted an attitude that could no longer receive goodness. I was pretty certain he was being abused but when I talked to his legal guardian she refused to consider the possibility and wouldn’t do anything about it.
When I was planning my wedding I told Uncle N. he was invited and that seemed to perk him up a bit, but when I told my mother her immediate reaction was negative and somewhat angry. She said there was no way anyone would want to go pick him up and then drive him back afterward. I vowed I would do it, but then later talked myself out of it and chose to never mention the occasion to him again.
Unfortunately, while my (now ex) husband and I were on our honeymoon my uncle had a medical issue and went into a coma while we were away. He never did come out of it. I’d visit him as often as possible and stay with him for a while, sometimes gently massaging his scalp or reading to him or even sitting in silence (and self-condemnation for not following through on bringing him to the wedding).
A couple of weeks went by when one night I woke up at two or three a.m. sobbing and couldn’t figure out why. It took quite a while to stop crying. I was worried it had something to do with Uncle N. so before going to work I went to the hospital to see him. It was a shock to learn he had died – no one from the hospital bothered to call anyone. I felt honored to have been the one to learn of it first, felt as if it was exoneration from him, like he was letting me know he knew how much he was cared about and that he forgave me for not following through on getting him to the wedding.
He showed up in a dream several years later and he looked so good – he was happy, healthy and was no longer mentally challenged. I believe that’s how he is now, in Heaven, and have always felt he’s here in spirit, too. (I hope so, anyway, especially since I still talk to him [out loud] sometimes :)).
I wrote a couple of ‘odes’ and a children’s story for him over the years. One of the poems, which hasn’t been found yet, was titled ‘A Simple Man’ and it honored his beautiful innocence. This is the other one, “Abandoned Child”, which is about trying to figure out why others treated him as ‘less than’.
Abandoned Child When I hear people talk about you, I have to wonder, What makes them so disinterested? What makes them so uncaring? Then I go to see you and I look into your eyes I see the innocence of the child inside. That beautiful child inside. . . . and I think I know why . . . Maybe it’s not disinterest or a lack of care; maybe it’s just the fear of seeing reflections of themselves in the shadow of your eyes. The child you have remained after all these many years has been abandoned by adults whose childhood was relinquished - for forced maturity and what they see in your eyes reminds them of the child they lost deep inside, Abandoned. c. Pearl E. M. I miss you Uncle Norm and am so very glad you were in my life. You taught me well about what real beauty is. Thank you.
