My Uncle, My Friend

Uncle Phil was not my uncle by blood or marriage. He was my friend, an honorary uncle. And now he’s gone. I just got word today.

Uncle Phil was a friend to me when I deeply needed one. I met him during my college years, a long time ago, but I’ve never forgotten what he has done for me. He helped me through one of the darkest times of my life, when I was bereft. He never understood exactly what his presence meant to me, but he lent it all the same.

Uncle Phil was a companion not just in sorrow, though he certainly was that. But he was also a friend in joy. He and his wife drove over 500 miles just to be at my wedding to Dan, and we drove over 500 miles to be at his to Meg.

Uncle Phil helped shape my musical taste. He played the guitar, specializing in old-timey music, with a group called Mole in the Ground. There were many times when he played for me — Fox on the Run or some old square dance tune, and “Star of the County Down,” which was the song he associated with his wife. He took me with him to his band’s performances and played for me on porches and in empty rooms.

I have memories. Good ones. Uncle Phil took me on picnics with peanut butter sandwiches on light rye at a local park. We played with a wandering puppy who would catch a ball and then run off with it. Uncle Phil called it a “Labrador De-triever.”

Uncle Phil taught me so many things. He taught me songs. He taught me to read Tarot cards. He taught me his unique interpretations of Bible stories. He taught me how to be strong. He taught me to appreciate Irish whiskey. He taught me how to grasp happiness from the midst of despair. He taught me that I could take care of someone else even when I needed taking care of myself.

Uncle Phil was a Friend as well, a member of the Society of Friends (Quakers), a beacon of the inner light. I attended meetings with him a few times and shared in the peace and fellowship. He lived his faith without retreating from the world that contained a troubled me.

Uncle Phil has left this world. I toasted him with Irish whiskey and Irish music. My grief is still raw. I am richer for having known him and the world is poorer for having lost him.