My father's brother died last week. I have been struggling to figure out what to say about uncles in general ("they are good to have in ones life"?) or this uncle in particular ("I figured out as an adult that he never really was going to heave me in the Kankakee River when I was five," "I'm still embarrassed that, as a third grader, I got it wrong when he asked me which was bigger 3/4 or 3/5", "he tried to hide his soft side, but I saw him around his grandkids, his dogs, and his turkey, and I know what I nice guy he could be"?) and haven't come up with anything pithy.
I'm very fortunate that my three uncles, very different from each other, have always been part of my life even though I've never lived near any of them. I'm also fortunate (as is everyone in my family) that all three chose fabulous wives. The two that are gone will continue to be much missed, but I must choose to feel lucky for knowing them as long as I did.
I'll add my usual thoughts on the uncertainty of life and celebrating as you go along, but also must remind everyone, but particularly my Brother, my Brother-in-Law, my Father and my Father-in-Law, to take care of yourselves. You are, after all, somebody's cherished uncle.