When I’m out walking the dog before sunrise my mind sometimes wanders and I fall into a bit of a meditative state. That was the case for me Wednesday as I steered the dog around the neighborhood. As we reached the “home stretch” and turned on to my street, something made me think about my maternal uncle Bub. He died nine years ago. His funeral was the only one for which I’ve ever served as pallbearer.
Images of his home popped into my head. I think I may have smelled it, too, or maybe even sensed my uncle’s presence in an even more direct way. I’m not completely sure what it was that got my notice: all I know is that the recognition was so certain that I said his name out loud, chuckling.
Later that afternoon, I read a Facebook update from his daughter, my cousin Connie. She about how she missed him and that that day was his birthday.
Until I read that I did not know my uncle’s birthday was Wednesday. I believe my uncle may have gotten my attention to pass on a little greeting on his birthday. He always had a mischevious bent!
