Friday, March 22, 2013
The last of the 3
On Wednesday I received a call from an attorney across the country. My father's brother had passed away and it turns out that my brother and I are his next of kin.
I have not seen this uncle since I was maybe 8 or 9 years old... maybe younger. I have vague memories of him at my grandmother's house. I also have vague memories of a visit to our home in Excelsior. He and my dad were close enough at one point that he is named as my godfather on my baptism certificate; however, in later years he and my father were estranged. I sent a high school graduation announcement to him in 1992, and invited him to my wedding in 1997, and sent a Christmas card or two, but never heard back from him. I eventually stopped trying and wasn't even sure of his whereabouts or if he was still alive.
So it was a surprise to hear from this attorney, to hear about my uncle's final years and how he lived.
Strangely, I am sad about his passing, even though I didn't really know him.
He was a college professor, so I did a Google image search to see if I could find any pictures. Sure enough, this one popped up. I was surprised to see how much he looks like my dad. He has the same hair, nose, and eyes. His shoulders are the same. His smile is the same. Did his voice sound like Dad's? How about his laugh? Did he have Dad's rheumatoid arthritis, too? Was he musical? I guess I will never know now.
The last of the Bronstad siblings is gone now. What a strange feeling. Only Jon and I are left of that branch of the family. It's a little bit spooky. Things like this remind me that I really am an adult.