Today I'm Grateful for Very Old Memories.
As you might know, I have lost some very dear people recently, and today I was thinking about all of the people I have lost in my lifetime. Not being morbid or anything, just sort of...counting. So I remembered my Auntie Midge (people used to say I looked like her), then there was my Gran (who helped Mum raise me) and then a couple of uncles and a grandfather (none of whom I ever knew), my (then soon to be husband's) mother, my Mum from cancer, my father-in-law, my step-father, my step-brother,(both of whom I hadn't seen for many years), and now my dear auntie and my Den.
I was thinking of all these people, thinking of the impact they had had in my life, even the ones I didn't know, or the ones I didn't like. All of these people are connected with me in an intrinsic manner, by being who they were, and doing the things they did, they helped to form me into the person I have become. No I am not 'blaming' them for anything I am, or am not, but merely acknowledging their involvement in my development.
And then I remembered him.
My 'Uncle Jim'.
Uncle Jim was my step-father's brother-in-law. He was married to Auntie Anne, a very large, imposing woman of stern demeanor, but good heart. Uncle Jim was one of those very rare gentle-men. He was kind of small, but solidly built, he always wore a hat when he went outdoors and he loved to cook. He had been a baker in the Navy, many years before and on his decommissioning, he and Auntie Anne moved to the 'butter-box' unit not far from the Sydney Harbour Bridge. They called it that because it was a very small unit, rectangular in shape, much like the old fashioned boxes people used to keep their butter in. They never had any children of their own, much to Uncle Jim's disappointment, and I think Auntie Anne's too, because even though she was never demonstrative, she was always kind. When I look back at those days though, when I used to go and stay and I slept on their little two seater couch (well, I was only ten), the thing I remember most of all is Uncle Jim. Every morning, he would get me a bowl of rice bubbles, to which he added sweet stewed rhubarb,( I didn't even know what that was until he gave it to me), and then he would carefully comb my hair, put on his jacket and hat and we would walk slowly down to the park at the harbour where we would feed the birds and just talk. He was never too busy, or bored to talk to a prattling kid, and no question was 'silly'. He would sit and think carefully before explaining it as best as he knew how. He was so patient. He was everything I wished for in a father, and never got in my step-father. (that's a whole other story). I think Uncle Jim knew things weren't right at home, but he never pried, he was always careful not to say anything negative. Like I said, a real gentle-man. In every sense of the word. He even used to pull out the chair for Auntie Anne when she went to sit at the table. All the things some might think are old-fashioned, but in reality, it was just his way of being considerate to others.
Uncle Jim died when I was seventeen.
There's an old saying, and I can't even remember how it goes properly, but in essence it says... In the end, it won't matter how intelligent you were, or how successful your career was. It won't matter how big your house was or what type of car you drove. In the end, all that matters is how you made other people feel.
When I think of Uncle Jim, I feel safe, loved, happy. I am so very grateful that he was in my life, even for such a short while, because he was the one who showed me that yes, there are some truly good people out there and that every one of them is like a treasure, if we search long and hard enough, we will find them, and when we do, we will hold them close and keep their memories forever.
Kisses
Julie
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