What I didn't get to say

There are very few things in my life that I treasure.
Sure, I'm a packrat - I have the sugar packet that Dean used in his coffee on our first date... I have notes that Amy and I wrote back and forth in highschool... I have the first lock of hair cut from both my children's heads.
These are not things I truly treasure - of the few things that I cherish most, my family is one of the greatest.
You see, I was adopted. I have the sincere privilege of realizing how very different my life could have been. I could have been adopted by anyone. I could have stayed with my birth mother - the possibilities are endless.
God knew.
God blessed my life when he chose the family He did.
I am ever aware of the blessing of a small, intimate family.
Two parents, married 41 years this month - a testament to loyalty and perseverence.
One sister who continues to be my devout supporter and one of my dearest friends.
Beyond this, I have two uncles, two aunts, 5 cousins and so many precious memories of family gathering, meals shared, games played...

I should mention the point of this blog... I had two uncles.
My dear Uncle Omer was diagnosed in December with stage 4 Melanoma - skin cancer. Too far advanced for regular treatment, he was given a very short time to live. We attended a healing service... gathered as a family and surrounded him with our love, prayers and annointing.
He was feeling very well up until the last week of May. His downward spiral didn't last long. My parents, my sister and I went to the hospital on the 22nd of June. This strong, robust bear of an uncle was fading fast. I hugged him as he raised his arms to embrace me... I kissed his cheek and whispered "I love you, Uncle". He told me he loved me too. Our visit was short - his energy was very low. However, we met in the waiting room with the 4 of us, my aunt and my cousin Darla. We prayed together, specifically praying for a private room and within 10 minutes, we were told he was being moved. A man in a private room requested the switch. PRAISE GOD! We had the opportunity to gather around him again, sing as a family and say our goodbyes. I told him I loved him again. I found myself holding back on the things I really wanted to say.
He died the following Tuesday morning and when I got the call, I felt like my world changed. Well, it did.
My uncle meant the world to me.
This was a man who I had known since I could remember. He was the master of the bear hug. The strong, silent man who didn't display emotion or affection, but would wink at me from across the dinner table. He introduced me to turkeys... brought me into the barn where 8,000 turkeys fell silent until he "gobblegobblegobble-d" and they broke out in chorus! He gave a speech at my wedding... I don't remember what he said, but the tears he cried were proof that he loved me back. He was a master craftsman. He built me a curio cabinet for a wedding gift. Just last fall he built me a piano bench - one I will treasure.
His life made an impact on me.
His absence is a hole that will be felt for a very long time.
I know he's in heaven, song-leading an angelic choir in an energetic rendition of "All Hail the Power"... I know I will see him again.
I wish he knew how much his presence meant. I wish he knew how excited I was when our annual family reunion came around. I wish he knew how he lifted my spirits... how his hugs revived me... how much I respected and loved him.
He was a true treasure in my life.