Rest in Peace, Dear Uncle R.

We lost a wonderful person on Saturday. The Huz's only uncle, to whom he felt very close, and his mother's only living relative besides a distant cousin, died after a few weeks of illness. He has lived for a long time with many different ailments, so his 72 years were truly a miracle, especially that he was able to continue to work, travel and do all the other things he loved. Uncle R. was truly a bright light in the world, and our lives will be a bit dimmer without his presence.

Wherever he went, he left a trail of smiles around him. He constantly poked fun at himself, but never joked at the expense of others. He always had a kind word to say to those around him. I literally cannot count the number of times he said my children were "lucky to have such a wonderful mother". How could you not love him? He was a handsome man, in a goofily endearing type of way. He had white grey hair, with a bulbous nose and a slight lisp, a heavily Chicagoan accent, and shuffled everywhere he went. He was extremely comfortable in his own skin, and it wasn't unusual to hear his feet shuffling into the kitchen at 10 pm for his midnight snack (since he went to bed at 6 pm), sneaking a sugary snack behind his sister's back (his personal food police), and then hearing a fart escape and him remarking, "Hmmm...must have stepped on a frog or something..." and then his feet shuffling back to the bedroom.

He was up for any adventure, and for his 70th birthday, he treated us to a vacation in Hawai'i, where we were able to enjoy a week of Uncle R's presence and geniality and good humor and leave relaxed and refreshed. Watching the close relationship between he and his sister, my mother-in-law, made me long for a brother, and reminded me of the importance to call my sister as soon as I got back home.

He was an avid collector of art, and since he was a humble man, I walked into his 3-story Riverside home, after knowing him for 6 years, to find that his walls were lined with original Picassos, Monets, Cassatts and numerous other works by Huge Names and local artists, just hanging on the wall in a home without any sort of special climate control or lighting. Around every corner was a new find, staying there was like living in the novel From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler for three days.

His life partner, T., not often spoken of in The Huz's family, due to their unspoken agreement to ignore Uncle R's predilection to The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name, was a kind and quiet man, and the two of them enjoyed decades of a fulfilling life of shared interests while allowing each other freedom to pursue their own travels and hobbies. It was truly a relationship to admire.

We will miss you, Uncle R. We love you very much, and will always remember your kindness, your humor and your smile.