His Legacy

[kukla_tko]

My uncle D did not have any children of his own.
I don't know why. He was married to his soul mate for most of his life. It's possible that there were fertility issues, or that they decided not to have kids. I never knew and I figured that if it was my business I would have been told.

But there are three boys and seven girls in that family. Other than Uncle D, they all have children now. And he was a good uncle to us, too. He liked kids and would talk to them rather than down to them. He indulged us and loved to hear us laugh. My aunt said something today about how he loved to see the new babies "and smell them. It's what he did."

You know, that sounds creepy when I say it here, but I think she was just remarking about his love for that new baby smell.

Anyway, I had been thinking that if uncle D had a son, he'd look just like my cousin M. Cousin M resembles him greatly, and has some of his flair and flaws. Indeed, though my cousin had a different last name at birth (he's my Aunt A's son, and therefore had his dad's last name) he changed it to match the family title when he hit adulthood. (See: allura629 is right. It's not so much a surname as it is a title.)

But then it also dawned on me in my addled state that we, the cousins, are his legacy.
I am part of his legacy.
My brothers are part of his legacy.
My cousins are part of his legacy.
Hell, our kids are part of his legacy.

This is a peculiar comfort to me at the moment.

But after all, he and my father were a mere 6 weeks apart in age. They were Same-Age-Brothers. No wonder Uncle D's death hit me like a ton of bricks.

I'm not ok, but I will be.
I'm not in the mood to talk about it out loud, but I will be soon.
I might need a bit on my own, but feel free to email me in the mean time.

I am his legacy. I'll do my best with that.