Although my children have lost one amazing Uncle, they still have another one. Uncle Steve is my husband’s younger brother and truly wonderful with my boys. The last time he visited I really enjoyed watching them play together in the backyard. It’s clear that he likes being with the kids as much as they like being with him. This can sometimes be hard to watch, because, of course, I’m thinking about all the time they won’t get to do this with my brother. I try not to dwell on that though, and just stay in the moment.
Last weekend my kids got to talk to Uncle Steve on the phone. He and my 6 year old had a normal conversation (for a 6 year old anyway). When my 3 year old got on the phone the first thing he said was, “Uncle Eric died today.” Time is relative when you’re 3. We have these moments fairly often, and we just acknowledge that yes, Uncle Eric died and it’s sad, and move on. I don’t want my kids to attach sadness to the position of Uncle though.
I don’t want Uncle Steve to be burdened by the memory of Uncle Eric. It’s not fair to him. He shouldn’t have to be grief counselor because of his title.
I don’t know how to separate this for my kids. I hope that as the little one gets older, he will do that for himself. In the meantime I guess we will just keep stumbling through these little blips in conversation.
I hope Uncle Steve knows that none of this is a reflection of him as Uncle. Missing Eric doesn’t make him any less of a great Uncle. In fact, Eric would say that it gives him an opportunity. With lack of competition, he can slack and win the title of best uncle with minimal effort.
I know he won’t do that though.
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