April showers, April flowers

Today's post not only honors family members long gone, such as my uncle Ruben who would have celebrated a birthday today, but also celebrates those hale and hearty–specifically my mother, his sister and only remaining member of his immediate family.

My uncle passed away last July. I gave and wrote a bi-lingual eulogy, and considered it a honor. Most of all, I did it to praise his dignity, intellect, and accomplishments and thereby give him something in return.

His corporeal absence doesn’t stop me from considering the sorts of gifts I’d like to bestow on him. For nostalgia’s sake, there would be the aftershave, and, uncle Ruben gleefully accepted my perennial gift as if it was the cleverest choice on earth.

There were many more gifts I could think of that would have pleased him, but his library was full of books and although we did have a common quest for esoteric material, my uncle was always rather hard to shop for. He didn't just like anything. It’s wasn't just disdain for all things pedestrian; a lot of popular gift items got lost on him. He went from suits to no longer wearing anything more elaborate than jeans and button down shirts. Not even to his Masonic meetings. And this ruled out fancy ties.

Last year, on what we perceived might be his last birthday, after we ate the mango cake that I had brought along, my uncle, reached over to me, sated, impressed, touched, and, I can only hope, adequately loved said, “You’re a good niece, and a nice girl,” after draping a leaden arm over my shoulder.

With remains of my cake before me, I was glad to have something to look at because I couldn't look at him. It made me feel too influential and I hadn't done anything to warrant his statement but to pay him an occasional visit. I was both embarrassed and touched by his remark and I didn't know what to answer and to keep myself from choking up, “I'm glad you liked your cake, because your hard to shop for” I returned.

We both smiled.