From the time I was small, I knew about my Mothers brother, Don. The way she and my grandmother said his name, you knew they were fond of him. I remember him as a wonderfully quiet man, with a surprising wit. You would miss his jokes if you were not paying close attention when he talked with you. He was also very thoughtful when he spoke, taking his time to form his thoughts. It was interesting to listen to him recently, at my Grandmothers 90th Birthday. He, my mother, and my other uncle talked. It was a comforting sound, those three voices, though I had never heard them together before. It was like a song, the different meters of their voices just fit together, and Grandma would occasionally pop in with the chorus of her laughter. It was soothing to be around him, you found yourself often just enjoying sitting in silence. I didn't get to know him early in his life, and my memories will probably be very different from my Mothers and Grandmothers, but this is how I saw him. He and my husband, James, even met once. They enjoyed talking to one another. I was surprised how at ease they seemed with each other, and it was a great conversation I wish I actually remembered the details of. It is hard to imagine him actually being gone, and sometimes it takes my breath away to know he is. I can only hope that he is at peace.