Feb 07, 2014 08:28
Today I am reflecting on the life and passing of one of the more important people in my life, my Uncle Bob. Today marks the 34th anniversary of his death. Had he lived he would have been 76 this coming May. Some years hit me harder than others. This year is hitting me hard, possibly because of the recent death of Philip Seymour Hoffman and all the commentary about addiction that is floating around as a result. My uncle was also an addict, his particular poison being beer.
I'm pondering today how different my life would have been if Uncle Bobby had not been an alcoholic and lived a longer life. I would not have suffered PTSD when I was 13 as my therapist feels I did. I still think it would have caught up to me when I was 21 and my best friend Frank died but who knows? I do think my relationship with my dad would have been drastically altered had his brother lived. I enjoyed a very close relationship with Daddy but as a child, I worshipped the ground my uncle walked on and I've come to realize this was a source of irritation for my father. Uncle Bob and my dad were as different as two brothers could be and didn't see eye to eye on many fundamental issues. If he had lived, it's quite likely I wouldn't have been so close to Dad. I'm grateful for the close and wonderful relationship I shared with my father and still I often wonder what sort of mischief my uncle and I would have gotten into over the last 30 some odd years.
I'm thinking over all the things left undone when a person dies young. I am almost certain I'd be riding my motorcycle often instead of letting it sit idle in the garage if Uncle Bob had lived. Maybe he would have traded in his red Honda for a Harley by now but I know he would have talked me into getting back on my motorcycle when I laid it down a few years ago. I'm sure we would have ridden together quite a bit. I wonder what Bree would have thought of him and I know he would have adored her and doted over her like he did me. No kids of his own, Bobby treated me like his daughter. I was The Kid since there were no other children born to the three Armstrong siblings. Bree would have inherited that title, no doubt, and all the perks that went with it. I am sure my uncle and I would have had a few arguments over him spoiling her, just the way he and my dad did over me. But she would have benefitted from his zaniness and childlike wonder of the world.
I am not sad so much today as wistful and nostalgic. I still miss the man and wish he had not drank himself into an early grave. I was lucky not to inherit his drinking problem though I did come close at one point. I am much more like my dad than my uncle these days but I did inherit his love of animals, particularly strays in need. His silliness and willingness to do anything for a laugh still brings a giggle to my lips. Oh the adventures we would have had.
life,
uncle bobby,
death,
deep thoughts